


The End Has Only Begun

by aisforaims



Series: it's a long way [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2017-11-23 08:57:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aisforaims/pseuds/aisforaims
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A wish on a blue star, an unexpected arrival, and the beginning of a journey that would save a whole kingdom. Multi-chapter AU. Killian is Emma’s boyfriend in Boston at the start of the series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's Time to Begin

Emma limped her way out of the elevator of her apartment building. A white paper bag was tucked under her arm as she made her way to the front door, keys dangled around her fingers as she walked. While her place had a killer view and she was satisfied enough with the Boston area for the moment, that night was one of the times she wished she lived on a first level floor. Of course, the nice apartment was a step up from places she stayed at in the past. A few stairs or an elevator trip was really nothing to cry over for the now twenty-eight year old. She keyed her way into her place and had to prop a hand against the wall to keep from stumbling as she kicked off her incredibly high pumps. Through it all, she kept her tiny package secure. After the night she had, she wasn’t going to make it worse by dropping what was inside. While her red dress was stained and her feet were killing her, Ryan the bail jumper had been taken care of. All in all, that was job well done in her book and a cause for celebration.

“Did you get him, lass?”

The voice echoed slightly in the spacious apartment, but Emma was very familiar with it. She turned the corner into the open kitchen area, placed the paper bag on the counter. Tilting her head, Emma looked through the open bedroom door to find her boyfriend sitting comfortably on their bed. Even though they were living together, Emma was still getting used to his presence. It had been over ten years since she had a serious relationship or a relationship that lasted longer than a month. She stuck around with this guy for some reason though. He had an honest job, no criminal background that she knew of (and she did look into him to find that one out), and he kept her on her toes. However, as great as he was, there would always be a small part of her that was waiting for it to all go to hell.

Being alone the majority of one’s whole life could do that to a person.

Still, they had met, dated (if that’s what they called it), and moved in with one another within the course of a year. Doing that was record-breaking enough for Emma, who barely stuck around in one place for more than a couple months. At first, it was because he was there and it was convenient. She knew it was the same for him as well. They were alone, felt lonely, and they gravitated to one another to solve those problems. Easy sex, light conversation, and nice enough company. It was the perfect situation for the both of them. It had worked for a while too, going to one another to quell that carnal need. It was the other things that needed to be taken care of though. The emotional, the intellectual… Basically the messy stuff that no one with issues as long as Emma’s was ready for.

It wasn’t an easy transition from ‘barely friends with benefits’ to ‘relationship’. Hell, she still considered them in transition. They weren’t perfect. **She** wasn’t perfect. Despite the confusion at times, they had formed a companionship the past year, had a sense of camaraderie they both were without for years. That was a small comfort for them both. They enjoyed each other’s company, shared as much as they allowed one another to know. She didn’t need his whole life story. He wouldn’t have been able to give that to her, even if she wanted him to. In the same respect, he didn’t ask for hers. Not that he needed to. He had a way of reading her like an open book. Emma still had her share of secrets though. She wasn’t stupid to believe he didn’t have his fair share as well. They didn’t need full disclosure, not at that moment.

What they had was enough for now.

Emma slid a hand into the paper bag, carefully pulling out a small box from it. She kept her gaze on her boyfriend as she placed it down on the kitchen counter. She raised an eyebrow at his question. He had been around her long enough to know the answer to that question by now.

“What do you think?”

Killian Jones smiled from his spot in the other room. His fingers had stilled on his keyboard, his attention locked onto his girlfriend for the moment. While he was had emailed potential clients on recent finds he thought would be of interest to them, she chased down runners in incredibly attractive outfits. He took a beat to admire the woman. Sans shoes, incredible dress… she looked like a siren come to claim the hearts of men. However, despite her efforts to hide them, there was weariness in her eyes and voice. Killian knew better than to point that out though.

“I think that you’re the one that should get arrested,” he replied, in an effort to lift her spirits, “That dress must be against the law.”

The noise that came from Emma’s lips fell somewhere between a snort and a scoff, which Killian took as a good enough sign. That wasn’t the first time he said something like that to her after a long night and, if he had his way, it wouldn’t be the last time. Her gaze moved from Killian as she opened the lid, revealing a single cupcake. Emma heard rustling from the other room, the sound of a laptop closing and footsteps approaching. None of that deterred Emma from her current mission, as fingers reached into the box to take the small treat out. She set the cupcake down on the counter and found herself staring down at it, completely unmoved as Killian stepped up behind her. A hand planted against the edge of the counter as he moved closer, the warmth of his chest pressed against her back as he did.

“Just the one, love?” Killian asked her, as he too found his eyes cast downward towards the cupcake.

“Habit,” came Emma’s reply, “I usually just needed the one for my… my birthday.”

Emma being afraid to reveal herself wasn’t something new to Killian, but finding out it was the birthday of the woman he had currently been sleeping with for the better part of a year? Well, that certainly wasn’t normal. It wasn’t the first time they found out things about one another in this way. Part of him felt a bit of shame that they had been together for this long and ordinary things like birthdays hadn’t been mentioned. Meeting one’s girlfriend while she was on the job, as she tackled a co-worker, wasn’t normal. Nor were his somewhat insistent, yet creative attempts for a date. Neither was their first kiss or first time, which, oddly enough, almost happened simultaneously.

Then again, ‘normal’ wasn’t a term he’d use for their relationship.

So Killian did what he usually did whenever their relationship took an interesting step.

**Adapt.**

“Well, Swan,” he said, before he let out a small breath in faux-concentration, “We’re going to need to do this proper then, aren’t we?”

Emma opened her lips to stop him, but the words barely had the time to come out as Killian shuffled around the kitchen. She watched him as he opened a few drawers, searched inside of them. When he returned to her side, she saw a small box of candles in his hand.

“We really don’t need them. I never do the whole ‘wish’ thing anyway so---”

Her words fell silent as Killian leaned in to kiss her. It wasn’t the act of the kiss that had her stunned, but the softness in it. She was used to feverish, urgent, ‘take off your clothes before I do it for you’ kind from him. Chaste kisses never seemed like his thing, which made them all the more surprising. When their lips broke, Killian took a small step back as his eyes locked onto hers.

“Try something new, darling,” he gently said, “It’s called trust.”

Emma’s fingers curled around the front of his sweater as she nodded faintly. After he said something like _that_ to her, it would be silly not to go along with something as mundane as a candle on a birthday cupcake. She watched as he began to open the tiny package with his hand and mouth and couldn’t help but look down at his other hand as he did.

Or lack of hand, that is.

When they met, he told her it was from a fishing accident. It made sense since he had been working at the docks at the time. She never asked for details of the accident, never wanted to go digging into his past in that way. A lost hand was enough trouble as it was and stirring up old demons never brought good to anyone.

When he got the lid open, he held the box out towards her. Emma glanced at the candles inside, all tiny, multi-colored stars on sticks. Weighing her options, she plucked a blue star from the box. She fixed Killian’s pleased smile with slightly narrowed eyes.

“Stop enjoying this,” she told him, though there was a hint of a smile that threatened to break on her lips, “Candles and wishes are for kids.”

“We’re all children at heart,” Killian explained, as he moved to snatch a matchbook from one of the drawers, “Now stop stalling and get on with it.”

Emma stuck the measly excuse for a candle onto the cupcake with little fanfare, and then watched as Killian lit the tiny wick. The small star glowed with life as the wick caught fire. The sight seemed to squeeze at a little part of Emma’s heart. She definitely was spending this birthday different than the others. She wasn’t alone. It should be enough to have a stable enough life and a boyfriend who cared enough for things like birthday candles. Still, there was emptiness inside of her that she couldn’t fill and a feeling that her life wasn’t as whole as it should be.

He watched as Emma rest her arms on the surface of the counter, leaned down towards the flame as she took a deep breath. For someone who claimed not to buy into the idea of wishes, Killian noticed the way his girlfriend closed her eyes tight and the long pause before Emma blew out the candle. His eyes were on her face as she slowly opened her eyes. Whatever she wished for, he sure as hell hoped she got it. Killian suspected love – and everything that came with it – was all too rare in her life.

“Tell me what you wished for,” he said, as she straightened her back, “I certainly hope it wasn’t birthday sex, because you would have gotten that without blowing on an open flame.”

Emma’s somber face broke, her lips curled against their will, and a laugh slipped from her mouth. Killian reached out an arm to wrap around Emma’s waist as he moved closer to her. And just like that, he broke the tension that had filled the air moments ago.

“I’m not telling you.” Emma nudged him back an inch before he could get his fingers on the zipper of her dress. “If I do, then it won’t come true.”

“How would you know?” he shot back at her, smugly, “I thought you don’t believe in the whole ‘wish thing’.”

A knock came before Emma could wipe the grin from his face.

“Go get the door,” she ordered, a small smile on her lips as she shoved him in the direction of the door, “Tick tock, smartass.”

“As you wish, princess,” his voice laughed back at her.

Emma rolled her eyes as she plucked the candle from the cupcake. She placed it aside before her fingers picked up the cupcake. She had only just begun to peel back the wrapper when she overheard the conversation between Killian and the visitor.

_“Can I help you?”_

_“Hi. Does Emma Swan live here?”_

_“Yeah… Who are you?”_

_“My name’s Henry. I’m her son.”_


	2. With or Without You

_“My name’s Henry. I’m her son.”_

Killian looked down at the small boy – _Henry_ – before him. Sheer confidence radiated from the kid, from the way he stood to the words he said. Words, by the way, that had Killian at a loss for his own. He must have blanked on them just long enough for the kid to slip right under his arm and straight past him.

“Whoa, hey, kid,” Killian closed the door after him and was quick on the kid’s heels. He followed the boy into the kitchen area, where Emma stood frozen. “She doesn’t have a son.” _Did she?_ Killian looked over the kid’s head, eyes on Emma. She was holding her cupcake up, mid-pause, as she stared at the boy. When she did break her eyes from Henry and met his gaze, Killian had all the confirmation he needed. “Where are your parents?”

The boy ignored his question as he moved to face Emma, who had just then put the cupcake down before it had the chance to drop through her fingers and splat against the hardwood floor. Killian didn’t know what to do with this information and, from the looks of it, neither did Emma. They both found themselves at the mercy of a child in that moment and the kid seemed to run with that.

“Ten years ago did you give up a baby for adoption?” Henry asked, before he answered his own question when Emma remained in her stunned silence, “That was me.”

Killian waited for the joyful reunion, the happily ever after moment. Instead, he watched as Emma seemed to grow pale. The woman’s composure seemed to be deteriorating by the second and she was aware of it. Her eyes shifted from him to the boy, her mouth open slightly as if she tried and failed to find the words.

“Give me a minute,” she finally said, before she turned and headed into the nearest room that was anywhere but there.

When the door shut with an echo, the two men were left in the kitchen. Killian prepared himself for the long pause of silence and awkward conversation, but the boy seemed to take everything in stride. He watched as Henry moved around the kitchen. The child mentioned something about juice. Were kids always this straightforward or was Emma’s kid the exception to the rule?

**Emma’s kid.**

Killian was not drunk enough for this. Instead of thinking about it, he pulled a glass out of a cabinet. The kid had snagged a juice bottle and looked like he was going to drink straight from the bottle. He placed the glass down on the kitchen island before he pointed towards the bottle Henry had begun to raise to his lips.

“Use a cup, would you, lad?” Killian said, as he inched closer to the room Emma disappeared into, “And… sit… or something. Don’t go scampering about.”

That had to be enough advice. At least it was enough for Killian, who couldn’t remember the last time he had to been around a kid that age, much less talked to one. This particular boy had a tendency to go, do, and say what he pleased. Killian wasn’t sure he wanted to leave him alone for too long. He moved towards the door Emma disappeared behind, took a cautious glance back at Henry before he opened the door and slipped inside.

As Killian stepped into the bathroom, Emma was forced to take a few steps back. She had spent the time alone trying to gather her wits and collect herself. She failed at both. Add on the fact that Killian was in this equation? Emma was so far off her game and she needed to get it together. It was difficult to do so when her boyfriend seemed more composed than necessary. She waited for it. The other shoe to drop, for things to go to hell… The inevitable shake up and break away. She had been waiting for it long before the kid showed up.

“Just say it already, would you?” Emma huffed out.

Her body screamed with tension, hands planted on her hips as if she were ready for a fight with him instead of what she needed to take care of on the other side of the bathroom door. Emma Swan can handle a fight and had been in a few of them in her days. What was outside, waiting for her, seemed to be the tougher of the two options.

“Say what, love?” Killian replied, as he leaned against the bathroom sink, “There isn’t anything to say.”

He said it so casually that Emma felt her jaw lock, her eyes narrow. He must have noticed, because his back straightened slightly.

“There _isn’t_ ,” he insisted, “You and I… We had an agreement, Emma. Unspoken, sure, but one nonetheless. I didn’t inquire about your life before we met, you grant the same courtesy to me, and we take things as it comes.” He had to take a moment to check himself. He knew that a fight with Emma wasn’t part of the plan. It sure as hell wouldn’t get her out of the bathroom and to the kid either. “I don’t break my agreements, love.”

“What then?” Emma prodded, “You’re just fine with everything?”

“Of course I’m not _fine_ with it,” Killian replied,, “I’d prefer to be doing other _more enjoyable_ activities with you tonight, but alas… That doesn’t seem to be the case, does it?” He blew out a frustrated breath as he stepped closer to Emma. They needed to get the hell out of this bathroom and deal with the kid. The longer they stayed locked away, the sooner they’d turn the issue onto anything but the task at hand. “Now, if you haven’t noticed, there’s a young boy in our kitchen,” he added, “What would be your course of action on that front, Emma? You certainly can’t have the police haul him away, can you?”

Killian’s eyebrow rose slightly as he watched Emma’s eyes shift from his to the door, a half-guilty look on her face.

“You were going to call the cops, weren’t you?”

“It was an option,” Emma replied, “Call them up, have them contact the parents. They’d know what to do with him more than I would anyway.” She watched as Killian opened his mouth to say something, but waved a hand to stop him before he could. “I’m not going to make calls to his parents and wait for them to pick him up. It’s weird enough as it is.”

“And involving the police _doesn’t_ make it strange?” Killian asked, “Cops cars, handcuffs, sirens, the idea of jail…” Emma began to nudge past him towards the door as he continued to speak. “How do you know that sort of thing won’t do irrefutable damage to the kid?”

“How do _you_?” Emma shot back at him. She had whirled around to face him as she spoke. Her eyes lit with frustration, but Killian also noticed a level of pain. He had struck a nerve and he didn’t even know it. “You don’t know. You don’t have a clue and, if you did, you wouldn’t remember it anyway. So do me a favor and spare me the theories, because on the list of crap I have to deal with tonight, listening to you play Dr. Phil isn’t one of them.”

Emma brought her hand up to her face and rubbed at her eyes in irritation. She was irritated at Killian, at the sudden appearance of this kid, at herself. When she dropped her hand to her side, Emma forced out a tight sigh as she tried to compose herself long enough to go back out there and deal. She avoided Killian’s eyes as she turned once again towards the door. It wasn’t soon after she had her hand on the doorknob that she heard his question.

“What would you have me do then, Emma?”

The voice came so clear. No hesitation or anger was in his words. There was nothing but a question she couldn’t answer. She didn’t want to think about the fact that Killian, after everything, still wanted to know what he could do to help the situation, help _her_. That sort of thing should have brought on countless good feelings. However, with Emma, it only stirred up more uncertainty. The only person she could depend on at the end of the day is herself. Emma had learned that the hard way.

This life, while certainly better than she used to live, was not a fairy tale.

She wasn’t and would never become be princess.

It didn’t matter how good the man might seem, because sooner or later she’s find out that he was not a knight in shining armor.

Good things don’t last and things she could count on will come to abandon her with time.

This was the _real_ world.

“Just… stay out of it.”

Killian did as Emma requested and stayed out of it. He did nothing when Emma said she was going to call the police, stayed back when Henry (clever boy) kept Emma from doing so, and he didn’t say a word when Emma came to the conclusion that she had to drive the boy home herself. He didn’t want to be angry over the discussion they had moments before, but he found it was impossible not to be in one way or another. Perhaps it was just the wrong time to get into things or maybe a blowup like this was meant to come over time. Either way, their exchange left Killian with a bad taste in his mouth. He could only imagine the same, actually _worse_ , for Emma.

After Emma changed out of her dress, the three of them made their way out of the apartment building towards Emma’s yellow Volkswagen Bug. It was a hideous thing compared to some of the nicer vehicles in Boston, but it was deceptively spacious. He figured that out in a fairly hilarious manner during the early stages of his courtship with Emma. While Emma got Henry situated, Killian took the moment to take out his guitar case from the back of the car. It wasn’t until Emma almost got behind the wheel that she noticed only Henry was in the car.

Emma laid one arm to rest on the hood of her car, the other against the open door on the driver’s side. She stared across the hood at Killian, who stood on the sidewalk. His guitar case rest against his side as he brought his gaze to hers after nodding in farewell to Henry.

“Killian?” she heard herself ask. The name came out a little too hesitant for her taste. She knew what was going to happen, but she couldn’t bring herself to continue on until it was said. Emma mumbled for Henry to give her a moment before she closed the car door and rounded the front of the car towards Killian. “You’re not coming with?”

To her dismay, he shook his head.

“This seems like something you need to take care of on your own.”

A lesser man would have thrown her words back at her. It would have been easy to do it. Simply tell her he was doing what she said. _Staying out of it._ Those would have been petty shots that would have satisfied in the moment, but not in the long run. Killian couldn’t find it in him to do that to her; not on her birthday and definitely not with a biological son sitting shotgun not far behind them.

“Look,” Emma began, “About what I said before…” She wasn’t wrong. There was no way she was willing to give him that much. Still, as much as her head said this was all for the best, her gut felt something completely different. The uneasy feeling in her stomach made her feel like an idiot, which made putting it into words all the more difficult. “I don’t want this – you, me, _whatever_ – and what happened earlier to become some blown out of proportion… thing.”

Killian watched as Emma stuck her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket. Her shoulders were hunched and her eyes were downcast. She had, in her own way, made the first move. It was up to him to take the second one. He took a small step forward and closed the gap that was between them. He raised his hand to tuck her hair behind her ear, the pad of his thumb caressing her cheek in the process.

“Go to Storybrooke, return the kid, and come _home_ ,” he said, “Everything else can wait until then, Emma.”

“Will you be one of them?” Emma asked. The last time Emma left and expected her boyfriend to be around after, her boyfriend (well, _ex_ -boyfriend by then) had figuratively thrown her under the bus and skipped town. “‘Cause if you’ve got reservations or anything, then I want to know now before I leave. I don’t want to come back here and suddenly find half the stuff gone or some half-assed note about how you ‘need space’.”

Emma expected a few reactions out of Killian, none of which were the smile that came to his lips. She was ready to snap at him, but he had already made his move. Killian leaned forward and gently brushed his lips against her forehead in a light kiss. The move was so smooth and it was over before she was able to recognize what had happened. It was only then that he took a step back from her, created the gap that had previously been between them. Killian brought his hand to her leather jacket to tug the collar into place. He nodded off towards the car before bringing the full power of his gaze back to Emma. He didn’t know what created such mistrust in her, but he took upon the battle of breaking down those walls; brick by bloody damn brick.

“You’ll never beat traffic standing around here with me, Swan.”

A part of Emma knew the conversation wasn’t going to go anywhere, not when there was so much that needed to be dealt with first. They had no choice but to leave things as it were until she was back from her trip to Storybrooke. So Emma left Killian on the sidewalk outside of their building and drove out of sight with Henry. It was thirty minutes out of Boston before she realized that Killian never answered her question.

The drive to Storybrooke wasn’t the worst, but the kid sitting shotgun definitely made the air feel heavier. The weighed down feeling in her chest didn’t get any lighter once they actually crossed into Storybrooke either. On the drive there, the kid had gone on about how everyone was under some sort of curse and how they were all fairy tale characters. Of course, no one in town knew they were fictional characters from bedtime stories. No, that would be too easy and that seemed to be the theme of the night. Returning Henry to his mother was a whole other problem Emma wasn’t prepared to deal with. The woman – Regina Mills, town freaking mayor! – was a hard-ass of the highest degree, though Emma did her best to get through the awkward aftermath of returning a runaway Henry to her. Regina seemed friendly enough to talk to, but Emma wasn’t looking to get comfortable and Henry’s mother was all too accommodating when she mentioned heading out.

Emma had stopped in front of the house after she left, spotted Henry in the window of the second floor when she looked. However, it wasn’t seconds after she faced his direction that he stepped away from the window. As far as reunions went, Emma was sure there had been worse ones in the record books. However, she also knew that the one she had with Henry was nowhere near the top.

“Sweet boy, wouldn’t you say?”

Emma whirled around and spotted the owner of the voice leaning comfortably against her car. That alone had Emma’s walls stacked up. She recognized him from earlier with Regina. From the looks of him, the guy seemed to be Storybrooke’s attempt at an authority figure. She said nothing as she came closer to her car. Officer Scruffy McAccent didn’t seem to notice he was leaning up against the driver’s side door.

“I’m Graham, by the way,” he added, as friendly as any small town official would be.

“Emma,” she replied, before she quickly added, “I have a long night ahead of me. So if you can find somewhere else to lean…”

In the course of one night, Emma had a ruined dress, a spat with her boyfriend, and an appearance of her biological son. She really didn't want to chitchat, no matter how well-mannered the guy might be.

“I think it might be better if you spent the night.”

Well, maybe not that well-mannered after all.

“That’s kind of forward,” Emma replied, though there was a hint of amusement in her voice.

“I know Regina’s drinks,” Graham clarified, “I’d hate to get out the breathalyzer. There’s a B&B up the road: Granny’s. It’s a lovely place.”

“Well,” she said, as she took a few steps closer to Graham, “I hate to disappoint you, but I only had one drink and I’m _way_ … Well, I’m not going to tell you that, but the point is right now I would blow a .06 well beneath the limit.”

She was playing with the guy and they both knew it. Graham seemed harmless enough though and it a little light banter could get the guy to lean somewhere else, then Emma could afford a couple minutes lost. It didn’t hurt that the man wasn’t unattractive. Men who wore ties and vests were never really Emma’s thing, but she did appreciate a man in a leather jacket. The scruff didn’t hurt either. Emma could think of much worse in terms of company. Then again, the fact that Emma took a moment to flirt with another guy while Killian was waiting to sort things out in Boston created a twisted feeling in her gut.

Lucky for her, the flirting only got that far.

“Drive safely,” Officer Friendly said, opening the door for her with a smile on his lips.

And Emma did.

The rain poured heavy from the sky as she drove down the empty road towards the town line. As she did, Emma tried to get her mind to let go of the thought of Henry. She did what she came to do, which was return him back home. He was back where he belonged and she was on her way to the same. The balance was resorted once again. It wasn’t until a few moments later that Emma spotted it.

_Henry’s book._

“Sneaky bastard,” Emma said to herself, her eyes on the cover of the old book. There was a hint of admiration in the words. She couldn’t help that. Emma had seen this trick done before. Leave something of importance and the person it was left with had to return it, right? Usually it never worked, especially on her, but Emma’s head had been overloaded with so much that night that the kid must’ve known she’d overlook something like that. Of course, a lost story book was the least of her problems that night.

When Emma returned her eyes to the road ahead of her, she jumped as she spotted something in the road. _A wolf?_ She didn’t give herself enough time to think about that though. Instead, she turned at the wheel, swerved to avoid the damn thing. The sound of the tires as they screeched echoed out in the darkness as her car veered off track. The driver’s side of her car headed towards a sign and crashed into it. The last thing Emma felt before slipping unconscious was her head bounce against the car on impact. Pouring rain continued to noisily beat against the roof of the car and road as the wolf howled into the darkness. Drowned out by that noise was the buzz of Emma’s cell phone, which had fallen out during the madness. Like Henry’s book, it sat on the floor of her car.

The glowing screen flashed a single name: Killian.

_“This is Emma Swan. Not here right now so leave a message.”_

Killian sat at the edge of the bed he shared with Emma, the phone pressed to his ear. His elbows rest against his knees as he heard the call go to messages again. Perhaps it was the rain, which grew heavier since she left with Henry. Reception could be terrible because of it. Maybe she decided to spend the night in a motel until the storm passed. Whatever the reason, it had been too long since Emma left for Storybrooke and the fact that he hadn’t heard from her in hours worried him.

“Emma,” he said into the phone after the beep came, “It’s been quite a few hours since you left.” Killian tried not to let his mind run wild with ideas of what could be stalling Emma’s return, but instead worked to keep his voice as calm as possible. He had spent the passing hours with nothing but his thoughts. “Sweetheart, I don’t know where you are or if you’ve stopped for the night somewhere until the weather clears or if you just don’t want to come home.” Killian pushed himself onto his feet, paced the empty bedroom. “If you’re still in Storybrooke, I want you stay there. Listen, Emma… I know last time we spoke I said everything else could wait until you came back, but… I can’t. I know I told you I don’t break my agreements, but I can’t wait for you to come back from Storybrooke. I don’t have it in me.”

He slowed his steps as he neared the closet. Killian used his shoulder to keep the phone pressed to his ear as he used his hand to pull out his coat. He turned from the closet door and tossed the garment onto a nearby chair before he moved towards a dresser to pull out a few more items.

“The second this bloody storm stops, I’m leaving,” Killian said, “I’m coming to Storybrooke.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Also, for all those who have seen the S1 deleted scenes, you may see some familiar dialogue between Emma and Graham!


	3. Welcome to Storybrooke

Killian drove his old Chevy down the long stretch of road towards Storybrooke. The drive was fairly easy one, especially after the rain from the night before cleared up. Before he left, Killian had checked his phone for some kind of sign from Emma and had received none. Surely she would have let him know she had gotten his message, but must have been tuckered out from last night’s fiasco. He started to feel like one of _those_ boyfriends; the ones that worry too much. It brought nothing but uneasiness to him. He wasn’t that guy. His relationship with Emma wasn’t supposed to be like that, at least not when they first got together. Then again, it had been a while since the earlier days of their relationship. Some things change and apparently his level of concern had become one of them. 

As he neared the town line, Killian’s eyebrow rose in slight curiosity as something caught his eye. A man stood on the side of the road with a tow truck. It wasn’t the man or even the truck that held his focus though, but rather a yellow car. _Emma’s car._ Only Emma wasn’t in it. She wasn’t anywhere.

Killian pulled over to the side of the road before he killed the engine and hurried out of his car. Boots ate up the pavement as he made his way over to the man on the scene. He seemed to be in the process of hooking Emma’s car to his truck. The man looked calm enough as he worked. Killian wanted to take that as a good sign.

“Excuse me,” he said as he approached the worker, “What happened here? Has there been an accident?”

“Last night,” The man – _Billy_ , by the name on his tag – replied as he finished connecting the last of the chains to the car. He brushed his palms against the leg of his pants as he stepped around the car to speak to Killian. “I got the call to tow this morning from the station.”

“I know the woman who owns this car,” Killian told him, “Do you know where she is?”

Billy scratched the back of his head as he contemplated answering the question. Killian knew it wasn’t quite normal for a complete stranger to approach someone working and bombard them with questions. However, if Emma was in the town somewhere and she was in an accident the night before, Killian would never forgive himself if he didn’t try to search for her. The whole reason he drove this far was for her in the first place. Billy must have deemed Killian trustworthy enough, because he dropped his hand from his head and answered the question.

“Try the Sheriff’s station,” Billy replied, “Sheriff picked up the driver last night. He held her overnight at the station, which probably means she was drunk when he found her.” He tilted his head slightly towards the road into town. “It’s the second stoplight, then turn to the right and straight on until you hit Main Street. It’s on Main St. Big building so you can’t miss it.”

“Thank you,” Killian said, as he began to move towards his car. There were far too many questions in his head, but instead of going through each one he only had one thing he wanted to focus on, which was finding Emma safe and unharmed. He was halfway into the driver’s seat when he heard Billy call out to him.

“Hey, guy. You got a name?”

Killian looked in Billy’s direction over the hood of his car.

“It’s Killian. Killian Jones.”

“Welcome to Storybrooke.”

Storybrooke was quite possibly the smallest town he had ever been to and that was saying something, because Killian had been to quite a few places in his time. It seemed so secluded; untouched by fast food and restaurant chains, very unlike most towns and cities these days. Instead of a Starbucks there was a coffee shop called _Pots_ and instead of a _Denny’s_ there was a diner named _Granny’s_.

The search for the Sheriff’s station wasn’t too much of a challenge once Killian found the center of town, which seemed lively enough but certainly nowhere near busy. He parked in one of the open slots in front of the station, took a deep breath before he made his way inside. The station itself was about as big as one could expect in a tiny town. Nevertheless, Killian walked down the hallway towards what seemed like the Sheriff’s office. The office itself was mere steps away from what looked like the holding cells and desks. Two desks and two holding cells to be exact, both empty.

“Hello?” he called out. Killian heard his own voice echo through the empty station. This was the only place he was told Emma could be. He’d be at a dead end if no one was around and back to square one in the search for Emma.

Lucky for him, he wasn’t alone.

“Hello,” a voice greeted from behind him.

Killian turned around and expected to come face to face with the sheriff. The man before him didn’t look like the town’s law enforcement. The man was older and carrying a tool box instead of a gun holster. Nevertheless, he was someone and better than nothing.

“I’m looking for a woman,” Killian said, as the man slowly made his way further into the room, “I was told she may have spent the night in one of your cells.”

The man seemed to brighten at the words, which didn’t seem to calm the tension that had risen in Killian since he had gotten into town.

“Henry’s biological mother,” the man replied.

“Yes,” Killian told him, “Her name’s Emma. Emma Swan. I’m her boyfriend.” At least he hoped he still was. They left things fairly unfinished the last time they spoke. “My name’s Killian.”

“Marco,” the man introduced himself, extended a hand as he did, “Welcome to Storybrooke. We don’t get a lot of visitors. It’s nice to meet you, Killian.”

“Likewise,” he replied. Killian managed a smile as he took the hand, shook it politely. “Do you know where she is? I was under the impression that I’d find her here.”

“She left with the sheriff and mayor about an hour ago.”

“Left?” Killian’s mind had been spinning since his arrival to town and he knew that this new twist was no exception to that.

“She’s not in any trouble,” Marco added, almost as if he could sense Killian’s distress, “She was released. I was in the other room and didn’t catch all of it, but I think there was something said about Henry.”

_Henry._

Killian might not know the whole deal when it comes to Storybrooke or where Emma might be, but he did know one thing: It was a weekday and that meant school. If the last thing discussed was Henry, then perhaps Emma went off to say her goodbyes again before leaving. It seemed like he was on a wild chase. Only it wasn’t geese he was chasing after, but a Swan. The only option he had at the moment was to go to the school and hope to find her there.

Children raced through the halls of the local elementary school. The rush around him made him uneasy; though he was sure a fair part of it had nothing to do with kids running at all corners. He didn’t do well with children. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t seem to know what to do when it came to them. Some people just weren’t made to be a kid kind of person, he mused. He just didn’t click with them, which was apparent enough in the two minutes he had spent with Henry the night before.  It didn’t help that he felt mildly like a creep as he stepped into a school to look for a kid that wasn’t his.

“Excuse me, sir. Can I help you?”

The voice seemed charming enough, though there was a hint of authority beneath the words. A teacher, of course, and she was one that was obviously protective of her students. Killian turned to put a face to the voice. The woman before him was petite with short hair and soft eyes. A stack of books were in her arms as she regarded him with both curiosity and hesitation. She had never seen him before. By the look in her eyes, Killian was sure not many strangers came to town; much less came to the local elementary.

“I hope you can,” Killian said, a smile on his lips as he spoke, “I’m looking for a boy. Henry. I believe he might be able to help me find my girlfriend. She came to town last night and word has it she hasn’t left yet. Her name’s Emma. Henry knows her. She’s his…”

“His birthmother,” the woman said, “She was here about an hour ago doing the same thing you are, which was looking for Henry. I’m afraid he’s gone missing.”

“And Emma’s trying to find him,” he smiled, “I’m sure I’ll eventually find her once she does.” If anyone could find the kid, it would be his Emma. She had a way of finding anyone when she set her mind to it. He had a feeling Emma wasn’t going to stop moving until she found the kid and Killian honestly expected nothing less than that. “Thank you for your help, Ms…”

“Blanchard,” the woman finished for him, “Mary Margaret.”

“Killian Jones.”

Killian held out a hand and shook hers lightly when she placed her hand in his. Despite her uncertainty during the first moments of their meeting, Mary Margaret fixed Killian with a warm smile. There was an inherent goodness that seemed to flow in waves from the woman, which made him somewhat uncomfortable. Like many things he’d come to discover about himself, he was never at ease with that level of kindness. Still, he kept the smile on his lips in place. The woman was nothing but friendly to him. Everyone in town seemed that way.

“Welcome to Storybrooke,” Mary Margaret said, only to raise an eyebrow at the look that came across Killian’s face. There was a faint shift in his expression, almost amusement. “Something wrong?”

“No,” Killian replies, as a laugh escaped his lips, “No, nothing wrong. You’re just the third person to say that to me. Don’t get many visitors to town, do you?”

“I’m afraid not,” Mary Margaret smiled, “Emma’s arrival and now yours will most likely be anything anyone talks about for the next few days.” She could only imagine what the blurb in the local paper will state. It was safe to say not much happened in Storybrooke. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Killian didn’t bother to smother the laugh that came out, clearly amused. A small town like this one could use a little town gossip. Who was he to deprive them of their talk? Plus, he didn’t have anything to hide from a few townies.

“Not at all,” Killian said, “A little thrill never killed anyone, right?”

A little thrill might have never killed anyone, but a long time wandering around aimlessly might.

At least that was what Killian thought after an hour without any success finding Emma. He bypassed the commercial areas in town and didn’t bother with the idea of searching near the woods. It wouldn’t do him any good if he got lost. He resigned himself to the idea that he and Emma will find one another when the time was right. They had a way of crossing paths in the strangest of ways. This time should be no different.

As he slowed down to take a look at his surroundings, Killian found himself near water. Rather than the docks he was used to, he was by a small beach. Hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, Killian looked out towards the unending sea. Unforgiving waves rose and crashed along the coast, the swells sang out with every fall. There was loneliness in the waters. Many would look out at the vast sea and feel small; insignificant in comparison. Killian didn’t feel that though, only the feeling to gravitate towards it. Then again, he did used to work at the docks for months on end.

That was before he met Emma though.

Her name seemed to snap his attention away from his thoughts, send him on a crash course back to the now. He pulled his gaze from the water and spotted something up ahead. It was a small playground in the sand, built in the form of a castle. Killian picked up his steps as he worked to close the distance between him and the structure. He didn’t focus too much time with the structure though. He was too busy with the two figures that walked away from it.

“Emma.”

Henry’s gaze was the first to snap up and meet his. While they had limited interaction with one another the night before, the kid smiled in greeting at him. The three slowed to a stop on the sand, closed the distance as they did. Both his eyes and Emma’s carried a weight of sadness in them though. More when it came to Emma, who also had a flash of confusion on her face.

“What are you doing here?” Emma asked, too stunned to mask the surprise in her voice. He was supposed to be waiting for her… or getting ready to leave her. She didn’t quite know which, but both options were back in Boston. The last place she expected him was Storybrooke.

“I left you a message last night,” Killian replied, “A long one.” He couldn’t help the smile that came to his lips, the carefree tone of his voice as he shrugged off his words. “It was all very romantic at the end of it, talk of coming to you and the like. You’d have been impressed had you listened to it.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” she said in return, “I was a little held up last night. I didn’t even think to look at my phone today.”

“Ah, yes,” Killian laughed, “I’ve heard all about your adventures, love. You were playing bumper cars with welcome signs, making friends all over town, scouring the area with the local sheriff and mayor for the lost boy here.” His face softened as he turned his attention from Emma to Henry. “I heard you’re making running off a reoccurring thing. Glad to see you’re found again.”

“Emma found me,” Henry said, “I knew she would.”

Killian spared a quick glance in Emma’s direction, gauged her reaction to those words. For the most part, she tried to shrug off the power of them. However, the sadness in her eyes seemed to deepen and she wasn’t able to conceal it from him.

“Listen, Henry,” Killian spoke again, “I really need to talk to Emma, but I can’t do that knowing there’s a chance you’d disappear on everyone again. Think there’s a chance you’d stay within sight this time around?”

Henry looked from Killian to Emma. A slow smile seemed to form on his lips as he did.

“I think I can do that,” Henry replied, before he moved off to give the two some space.

There was something about the kid, about the look on his face that had Killian’s attention. Henry was no fool. It was clear as day that the kid was smart. Hell, he managed to travel from the small town to Boston and track down his birthmother. That level of smarts could get a kid into a lot of trouble if he wasn’t careful enough. That idea would have frightened Killian if he wasn’t sure the kid was a decent one.

Killian turned his attention to Emma, who worked to keep a cautious eye on Henry. When she turned her gaze to him, he couldn’t keep his emotions in any longer. He reached out and slid an arm around Emma’s waist before he moved to wrap his other arm around her. Arms still at her side, Emma found herself wrapped in an embrace, felt Killian’s sigh of relief against her hair. Emma’s spirit was drained after the events of the day and, for a brief moment, she allowed herself the comfort.

“Are you okay?” Killian asked her, as he pulled back enough to meet her eyes.

“Are you asking about something specific or just in general?” Emma replied, as she blew out a breath before she quickly added, “I’ll be fine. Nothing I can’t handle.” Emma felt his hand glide along the small of her back. His fingers for some sort of contact; some sort of connection to her. “Thank you for coming. You didn’t have to, you know.”

“I wanted to,” he said, “I didn’t like the way we parted.” With nothing resolved. Killian didn’t like the uncertainty. “I was hoping we could discuss it and—”

“Can we just forget about it?” Emma stopped him, “We’re okay, right? If we just forget about last night? You didn’t like what happened last night and neither did I so… clean slates.” She didn’t want things to become a problem for them. She didn’t want things to be a problem in her life period, but Emma knew that was never in the cards for her. “It’s been a strange couple of days and I feel like it’s only going to get stranger,” she added, “I’d really like it if this thing with you and me wasn’t one of them.”

“That’s what you want?” Killian asked her.

Was it? Would things really be okay if they just swept it under the rug, went on as they used to? Emma didn’t quite know, but she did know that she could only take so much craziness. With Henry and Storybrooke, she needed something constant and that constant stood right in front of her.

“Yeah,” Emma replied, as she moved to take one of his hands into hers, “Believe it or not, I kind of like having you around.”

“Okay then,” Killian simply said, though he wasn’t sure he agreed with it all, “It’s forgotten.” He watched as Emma began to smile, her fingers relaxed as she did. While it didn’t seem like the right idea, the sight of her at ease made it feel like one. “What’s going to happen now?” he asked her, “With Henry? I imagine you’d have to drop him off at his home again, say goodbye.”

Emma hesitated at those words. It was the logical thing. Henry wasn’t hers; she had no right to him. However, something didn’t sit right with her. Her gut was rarely wrong and the idea of just leaving set off warning bells.

“I’m… not sure,” Emma finally replied, “About leaving. I don’t know. I barely know the kid, but… I just need to know he’s okay here.” Emma looked off in the distance and watched as Henry waited for them. “One week,” she told him, as Henry’s request slipped back into her mind, “At most. Just to see for myself.”

“And where would we sleep?” Killian asked. Emma tried not to be amused at his use of ‘we’. She knew better than to think he wouldn’t be a part of this adventure. “Doubt park benches provide more comfort in a small town than they do in a big city.”

Emma seemed to already have an answer to that question. She signaled Killian to follow as she turned and walked off towards Henry. It seemed like the local sheriff and his suggestion the night before would come in handy now.

“I know a place.”

After Emma dropped off Henry (and after another interesting conversation with the mayor), Killian drove Emma to Granny’s. The inn was a little ways out from the center of town. It was almost shrouded in trees and overgrown shrubbery that they would have missed it. He pulled the car up to the sidewalk, eyed the brick walkway that led to the old inn. It didn’t look like much from the outside, but Killian knew that both he and Emma had slept at worse places.

“Go ahead and get us checked in, love,” Killian said, as he nodded towards the front door, “I’ll find a place to park, then find the local garage and pick up your car.”

When he saw Emma begin to open her mouth to protest, he leaned in and kissed her, hot and fast. He slid his hand through her hair and let it rest at the back of her neck as the kiss slid into a slower, more loving one. When they parted, Emma took a deep breath as she fixed Killian with narrowed eyes.

“You’re not allowed to use that move for the rest of the week,” Emma told him, “It’s playing dirty, Jones.”

“You don’t know how dirty I can play, Swan,” Killian all but purred in replied.

Once more he leaned in to take her lips with his, but this time Emma was smart enough to outmaneuver him. She slipped from the passenger’s side, closed the door with a grin. She leaned down to smile at him from the open window. His blue eyes watched her with a dark longing, one she was sure he’d appease before the night was through.

“Maybe not,” Emma casually replied, “But get back soon and I might just let you show me. Deal?”

“Deal.”

The search for the local garage wasn’t nearly as long as his search for Emma earlier that day. Though he only met the man for a moment, Billy was more than helpful when it came to getting Emma’s car back. It didn’t hurt that Killian said he’d owe the man a beer on his off-hours if he’d help him out. Hell, he was going to be there for a week. He might as well get chummy with the locals.

The sun had already begun to set as Killian drove through Main St. His eyes took in the area around him when he stopped at a red light. The sight wasn’t much. Not many people loitered around, though it seemed like many stayed around in the local diner. His eyes looked across the way, spotted what looked like an abandoned building. He looked up at the clock tower above it and wondered if that too had been abandoned, left broken like the building below.  Almost as if the damn thing could read his mind, Killian watched as it moved forward before the light turned green.

Killian glanced at the time before he continued driving back towards the inn.

**8:15** **.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for being so terrible at updating! I promise to update a lot more, especially given the hiatus that we've got going for us. Now that Killian is in Storybrooke I'm going to start deviating from the story a bit now, because adding in a new player (or possibly more than one...? #robinhood) to things that happened in the show obviously shifts the direction a bit (or possibly a few different outcomes...? #savegraham). Also because I don't just want to repeat scenes we've already seen, because then that would be boring and you'd all know what would happen next! Don't worry though, because you'll still get to see the other characters/ships in Storybrooke.


	4. Honest Questions

_"The second this bloody storm stops, I'm leaving. I'm coming to Storybrooke."_

The sun streamed through the window as Emma closed her phone, the voicemail still fresh in her mind after she listened to it moments earlier. She didn't know it was possible that her heart felt as if it were flying even as heaviness crept in her chest. Someone who wanted to be with her and actively sought her out… Her relationship with Killian was something Emma never experienced before. She juggled feelings of happiness with terror with every milestone they crossed. Despite the overwhelming feelings that came with that, Emma continued to push forward. There was no use in staying in the past.

She shifted beneath the covers and turned her back from the window as she twisted around to look at the man that currently occupied the other half of the bed. Killian lay on his stomach with his face pressed into the pillow, the cushion smothering the soft snores that came from his mouth as he slept. The sight of him brought back memories of their earlier times. There were several mornings after where she expected to find herself alone in bed, only to be mistaken time and time again. Killian rarely left while she slept, claimed it wasn't gentlemanly behavior to slip away like a thief in the night. She used to laugh at that, but now she found his code kind of endearing. When he wasn't being annoying, that is.

Emma moved closer to him in bed and pressed her chin to his shoulder. She felt him stir as she slid her hand up his bare back. Her fingertips brushed along the faint marks on his shoulder blades, which served as another permanent reminder from his accident. She sat up slightly to press her lips to them, smiled faintly against his skin as she felt him grunt in response. Emma watched as he turned towards her, cracked an eye open, and smiled. It was a damn good smile too, she had to admit. It carried as much mischief as it did sweetness, something he more than often used to his advantage if the opportunity called for it.

"Hey, beautiful," he said, his voice heavy with sleep.

"Sorry I woke you."

"No, you're not."

She felt a small smile fight it's way onto her lips as she raised her hand to rake her fingers through his messy hair. No, Emma thought, she really wasn't. Not when she watched Killian all but purr under her fingertips. He reached out to wrap an arm around her waist and tried to draw her closer to his body, but Emma resisted.

"Just a quick one," Killian laughed, as Emma playfully shoved him, "Before breakfast. Start the day off with a bang. A proper one."

"There is nothing proper or quick about what you want to do right now," Emma replied, "And you know it." The look he gave her seemed to confirm her words as well. The slight way he raised an eyebrow, the smug smile that threatened to break through his all too innocent face. "And you also know that's not why we're here."

"I know," he sighed. Killian sat up slightly, pressed his back against the headboard as they changed topics. They reason they were in Storybrooke wasn't for a vacation, as much as he'd like it to be. It was for Henry and Emma's need to make sure he was okay. Killian couldn't fault the woman for wondering, especially considering how far the child had gone just to find her. Of course, the situation would never be an easy one for all parties involved. "Why are we here though? You probably could have had one of your sources back in Boston look into this Regina woman. You don't need to dedicate a whole week to it in some strange town to find your answers."

He was right. Emma knew he was. She could have easily found the answers she wanted with a few key strokes and a couple calls into some acquaintances she picked up over the years. There was something about all of this that made her uneasy though, something that convinced her doing those things wouldn't be enough.

Killian could see Emma struggle with his question. Instead of pushing it further, he brought up another question.

"Have you figured out what you're going to do?"

"No," Emma shook her head, "Not really." For the longest time, Emma had thought out and planned each choice she made. There were only a few instances where her emotions had gotten the best of her. It was fairly clear in that moment that her decision to stay for Henry was one of those instances. "But it's not like I'd have to do anything. This is _Storybrooke._  I seriously doubt there's anything to worry about in this town. They don't even have a Starbucks."

Killian winced at that. What kind of town didn't have a Starbucks. He thought more on it, realized that the small town had lacked in pretty much all the major chains and franchises. Everything seemed to be family run, nothing commercial. Emma was probably right. It was more than likely the town of Storybrooke's biggest crime was bicycle theft or littering.

"Seeing how there's no Starbucks," Killian sighed, "We'll have to scour the town for a decent cup. The elder Lucas had yelled about her diner the night before. Very loudly... and for a while."

Emma tried not to smile at that. Their first night at Granny's was definitely an entertaining one. While she made good on the promise of playing dirty with Killian, they weren't the only ones that went at it the night before. The difference was that she and Killian enjoyed it. The innkeeper Granny Lucas and her granddaughter had gotten into an argument that lasted most of the night and ended with a couple of slammed doors. For a woman who looked like she spent her afternoons knitting, Granny Lucas had a mouth on her.

"Might as well give some small town dining a shot," Emma replied, "Because I sure as hell am not spending the week snacking on whatever bags of chips and candy bars we can pick up at the grocery store."

Together they slipped into the clothes they discarded the night before, tossed one another the articles they stumbled upon that the other needed. They took turns in the restroom as they alternated between brushing hair and teeth, between turns in the shower. They went through the process of getting ready for the day, a routine neither notice they formed. It was as though their whole relationship was something they just seemed to naturally slip into.

"Have you figured out what you're going to do about work?" Emma called out from the bathroom.

Her line of work was easy enough on her schedule. She took the cases she wanted, chased down bail jumpers at her convenience. If she wanted to take on more, she took on more. If she wanted less, she did that too. Emma wasn't worried about her job when it came to the time spent away at Storybrooke.

"I've some property waiting to be sold off," Killian replied, as he lounged on the bed, "But nothing that can't wait. If anything, I'll have someone in Boston take care of it."

"I don't want to keep you from it," Emma's voice drifted from the other room.

"You're not keeping me from anything, love," he told her, "I'm here because I want to be."

If Killian didn't want to be somewhere, he wouldn't be. It was as simple as that in his mind. He smiled as he heard Emma move about in the bathroom. She had kicked him out after he suggested they showers together. Then again, he may have suggested they partake in other activities as well, which may have been the reason for the boot she gave him. Still, she did it with a laugh and it felt nice to fall back into the swing of things again.

Emma was still in the bathroom when Killian heard someone knock on the door. He didn't know who would be at their door. With the exception of Henry, they knew no one in town. Hell, if he was to be honest, they didn't even really know Henry himself. He pushed himself up from his place on the bed, strode the few steps over to the door. He half-expected the elderly inn owner to be on the other side of the door when he opened it.

However, the woman that stood before him was not the grey-haired granny, but a raven-haired stranger with a basket full of apples. He wasn't quite sure who was more confused in that moment. Killian knew he was, which seemed logical considering she was at his door and he had no idea who she was. The woman had given him a run for his money in the confusion department though. She looked at him with a combination of utter confusion and anger. It was as if he had slapped her and had a flash of surprise in her eyes that almost made him second guess whether he actually had or not.

"You're not Ms. Swan," the woman calmly said, though there was a hint of bite behind her bark.

"No," Killian carefully replied, "But I can get her for you, Ms..."

"Regina Mills."

"Madam Mayor," he nodded in greeting, "Swan mentioned you."

"Yet she never mentioned you."

Her words came out pleasant enough, yet the layer beneath it was so calculatingly cold that Killian took a second to absorb the hit. He didn't get the chance to respond to her words, because Emma took that moment to emerge from the bathroom. She had only the clothes from the day before, a sad result from lack of planning. However, she was able to borrow his plaid button-up, knowing he had a t-shirt to wear and at least two more plaid shirts thrown haphazardly somewhere in his car. While she made it a habit to poke fun at his affection for plaid, she was grateful for his decision to wear layers the day before.

With her wet hair and the long sleeves of his shirt rolled up to her elbows, Emma took one look at who was at the door and stood a little straighter than she had been moments before. She had no idea why Regina was there, nor why she carried a giant basket of apples with her.

"I'll leave you two to your business," Killian said, as Emma moved to take his place by the door. He stepped aside to grab his wallet and phone, pocketed both before he picked up his jacket. "Meet you at the diner?"

"I'll be there in five," Emma told him, sure that whatever her and Regina had to talk about wouldn't take long.

He parted with no other word; only a hand slide along Emma's back and a kiss on the lips. Emma didn't watch Killian leave, though she did notice Regina did. It wasn't the first time a woman stared at her boyfriend and she was sure it wouldn't be the last, but there was a look in Regina's eyes that was different than the other instances. It wasn't lust or curiosity when she looked in his direction. It was something else entirely.

The town seemed to look livelier that morning than it had the one before. As Killian wandered towards the local diner, he watched as townspeople greeted one another in the streets. It was like something out of a movie. Part of him thought they had stepped into some bizarre universe where everyone was happy... or maybe that was just small town life at it's finest. He had no clue, but he was definitely entertained by the sight.

Killian found the diner easily enough and there were more than enough tables open. He decided to sit at the counter and scan over the menu there. The options were simple enough, nothing one wouldn't find at any other diner. There was a charm that wasn't present in the other places Killian had eaten at before though.

"See anything you like?"

The question came from the other side of the counter. When Killian raised his eyes from the menu and found himself looking up at the younger Lucas, Ruby. They hadn't quite met when Emma checked them into the inn. He only really knew her name because her grandmother had yelled it in frustration so often the night before. She had a look about her that told him her question had nothing to do with the menu in his hands.

Before Killian could reply the door to the diner opened. His eyes were pulled from Ruby as he caught the sight of Emma as she slipped inside. An apple was held so tightly in her hand that he would not have been surprised if it broke under her grasp. She had a faint look of frustration in her eyes, though she worked hard to bury it when she spotted him.

"I definitely see something I like," Killian said to Ruby, his eyes on Emma as she moved to join him. His hand came to brush along Emma's back as she took a seat next to him. "You look like you need a drink. Preferably with a little or a lot of Irish in it."

"It's not even nine o'clock," Emma told him.

"And Granny doesn't pull out the alcohol until at least ten," Ruby added, before she breezed away to help another customer.

"I'm simply saying you don't look as chipper as you did this morning," he said, as he shifted on his stool to face Emma, "Alcohol would help that. Though since you're so against drinking so early I'll suggest pancakes instead."

"I don't think pancakes would subside the urge to punch a city official in the face." At the amused look on Killian's face, Emma sighed. She knew he waited for her to continue, share her frustration. "She came around with a bushel of apples and basically told me to enjoy them while I get the hell out of town."

Killian watched as Emma placed the apple on the counter, replaced it with a menu. Her actions were stiff and full of tension, which he tried to sooth out of habit.

"I certainly hope you told her what to do with those apples," Killian replied, "Though, given the number she had in the basket, I imagine the task would be rather uncomfortable."

Emma couldn't help the laugh that came after that. She tried to shake off the encounter with Regina, as she knew that it took more than thinly veiled threats to get Emma to pack up and run. No, Emma was made out of tougher skin than that. She took the moment to relax, smile at Killian. Though she would deny it if he pointed it out, it was nice to have something familiar with her while she was on this crazy vacation. Emma had no idea why Regina wanted to run them out of town, but she wasn't going to leave until she knew Henry was okay.

She had only just begun to scan the menu when someone slid a cup in front of her. Emma looked up to see a smiling Ruby before she turned to look at Killian.

"You didn't have to order for me," Emma told him, as her eyes looked down at the cup of cocoa.

"As much as I'd love to take the credit," Killian hesitantly said, "I didn't."

"You have an admirer," Ruby grinned.

_What?_  Emma frowned slightly as she looked from her boyfriend to the waitress, confusion all over her face as she did. Ruby smiled at her and nodded off somewhere behind her before she moved off once more. Killian and Emma turned in unison, looked in the direction Ruby signaled. Now it was Killian's turn to frown.

The man that sat alone in one of the booths was of the scruffy nature, dressed clearly as the town's sheriff. Killian wasn't a jealous man by nature. He was very confident in himself, in what he could provide when it came to his relationships. He did notice Emma shift uncomfortably in her seat for a moment though, which set off a small feeling of uneasiness in him.

"Friend of yours?" he asked, as Emma moved to pick up the mug.

"Not really."

She wasn't quite sure where to categorize Sheriff Graham. He wasn't a friend, not was he really an acquaintance yet. He was... Well, the guy who arrested her. Also flirted with her. She didn't want that going around though, but it was hard when drinks were being sent over to her. Emma gave her boyfriend a tight smile before she moved towards Graham's table. She knew Killian wouldn't follow her, but she also knew he wasn't going to turn around and go back to picking out breakfast plates.

Emma weaved past the group of tables that were spaced between them, mug in hand as she moved. There was a casual look in Graham's eyes when he saw her approach, an easiness about him that would have been charming if she wasn't holding a offering she didn't want.

"Ah, so you've decided to stay," Graham smiled up at Emma.

He knew that Regina wasn't happy about this new development, but for some reason Graham didn't share the same feeling. It was odd that he didn't, because he usually felt the same way she did. It was as if he didn't know a time where he didn't agree with everything she said.

"Observant," Emma noted, before she dryly added, "Important for a cop."

"It's good news for our local tourist business," he replied, "It's bad for our local signage."

His words were met with a less than impressed expression.

"It's... it's a joke," Graham lamely added, "Because you ran over our sign."

"Look," Emma said, as she stepped closer to the booth, "The cocoa was a nice gesture and I'm impressed that you guessed I like cinnamon in my chocolate, because most people don't." Really. How the hell did he know? Emma decided not to think further on it. Instead she moved to place the mug down on the table in front of him. "But I am not here to flirt so thank you, but  _no thank you_."

Emma waited for it. The apology, whatever excuse guys gave when they were given back their drink. However, Graham looked from her to the mug, a flash of embarrassment on his face. It wasn't embarrassment for himself though. The look was for Emma.

"I didn't send it," he carefully said.

Emma opened her mouth to speak, but another voice spoke up. It was many years younger and a few booths over. Emma looked up to see Henry turn around to address them.

"I did," the little boy confessed, a bright smile on his face, "I like cinnamon too."

"Don't you have school?" Emma asked, as she watched Henry slip out of the booth.

"Duh," Henry smartly replied, "I'm ten. Walk me."

Emma hesitated slightly, looked from Henry to Killian and back. In the short time she knew Henry, the kid had been more than used to having her in his life. It was easy for him. He wanted nothing more for Emma to stay for the unforeseen future, but Emma was the farthest from ready for... Well, anything even close to the realm of motherly. She didn't know if Henry picked up on her hesitations. If he did, he didn't show it. Instead, Henry turned his attention to Killian, who had been watching everything unfold with quite a bit of amusement in his eyes.

"You're staying too?" Henry asked Killian.

"Seems like it," Killian replied, as he rose from his seat to join Emma's side. He slowly shifted his attention to the man who sat in the booth, stretched out a hand to offer it. "Killian Jones."

"Graham Humbert." The man took his hand, shook it. "I didn't realize Emma was... involved with someone."

"Well, it didn't really come up," Emma said, "With the sign breaking and arresting."

Emma watched as Killian and Graham seemed to size up one another, do whatever it was men did when they looked at each other in that awkward silence. Was it some kind of superpower thing with guys? Did they talk to each other with some freaky mind speak? Emma had no freaking clue, but if they regarded the other at longer she was sure people would think something weird was happening.

Well, something weirder, that is.

"Hey, kid," Emma said to Henry, "Let's get you to school." She nudged Killian towards the exit and sent Graham a small smile as she did. "See ya, Sheriff."

Graham tipped his head in farewell, watched as Emma and Killian followed Henry out. If Emma's arrival sent Regina into a tizzy, he imagined the arrival of two individuals would be twice the trouble for the mayor. It was the strangest thing for Graham though, because he couldn't bring himself to care for some reason.

If anything, it felt like a small part of him was actually looking forward to it.

Emma never thought she'd be in this position; the kid she had to give up when she was younger walking on one side of her, her boyfriend on the other. It felt too...  _normal_. Not Emma's definition of normal, but the kind of normal she never had. The kind she expected to see in Hallmark movie, the touchy-feely movies she never watched because they were never true to her life. The small task of walking a kid to school, the feeling of Killian's arm draped around her shoulders as Henry talked a mile a minute. It was just bizarre and completely out of her usual patterns. Well, not as bizarre as the subject of conversation they discussed.

**Fairy tales** **.**

She couldn't believe this was the subject. The fact that everyone in this town seemed to be under some sort of curse and she was supposed to be a part of the madness as well. Emma watched as Henry went on about what happened in town, about how his mother was an evil queen that cast the spell upon the residents of Storybrooke. Emma didn't believe in fairy tales and she  _definitely_  didn't believe that a whole town can be full of them.

"Step one: identification," Henry explained, proudly, "I call it 'Operation: Cobra'."

"Cobra?" Emma echoed, as she absentmindedly played with the apple she still held from earlier that morning, "That has nothing to do with fairy tales."

"Exactly!" Henry pointed out, "It's a code name to throw The Queen off the trail."

"Clever boy," Killian said, clearly amused, "She won't know a thing with a name like that."

Emma shot Killian a quick look. As hilarious as it was to imagine him and the kid plotting over fictional characters, his comments were not helping. He caught her look and shrugged, a smile on his lips. Emma knew he was just having a little fun, but she didn't want Henry to think they actually believed what he was telling them. It was hard to do that when she could see how excited the kid was about having people in on his little mission.

"So everyone here is a fairy tale character," Emma tried to understand, "They just don't know it."

"That's the curse," Henry replied, "Time's been frozen."

"Until Emma got here," Killian added, as he gave Emma's shoulder a playful squeeze, "That sounds like quite the tale."

"It's not a tale," the boy insisted, "It's real and it's just the beginning."

Emma shook her head slightly at that and worked to suppress the sigh that threatened to come out. She brought the apple she held to her lips for a bite, only for Henry to stop her at the last second.

"What is that?" Henry asked, "Who gave you that?"

"Your mom," Emma replied, as the boy grabbed the apple from her hand, "What are you-" She watched as Henry threw the apple behind them, heard the crack as it hit the pavement. "What the hell?"

"No apples," the kid told her, " _Don't_  eat them."

"Because The Evil Queen uses apples to poison," Killian added, clearly proud of the connection he made.

"Exactly," Henry said, "Apples can't be trusted,  _especially_ if they come from my mom."

"Okay," Emma replied, "What about their past?" She had to have him here. Everyone had a past and everyone remembered it. Maybe not all of it, but enough to know what happened to them. One person couldn't wipe a whole town's memory and leave them all without a single memory.

"They don't know. It's a haze to them. Ask anyone anything and you'll see."

She just might have to.

"So for decades people have been walking around," Emma said, "In a haze, not aging, with screwed up memories, stuck in a cursed town that kept them oblivious."

Killian was right. It was quite the tale.

"I knew you'd get it!" Henry let out in relief, "That's why we need you. You're the only one that can stop her curse."

"Because I'm the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming?"

Now  **that**  she didn't believe for a second. Emma wasn't a royal by any means. The idea of being that in addition to the fact that her parents were two fictional characters...? She definitely couldn't wrap her mind around that.

"Yes and right now we have the advantage," Henry continued, as he pulled out several sheets of paper from his backpack. He handed them to Emma, who looked at them. There was a faint look of uncertainty in her eyes. However, Killian looked on with interest. "My mom doesn't know that. I took out the end. The part with you in it." He pointed to the pictures. They had to understand why Emma was so important. "See? Your mom is Snow White. I know the hero never believes at first. If they did, it wouldn't be a very good story."

And the story was the most important thing. Emma had to understand that, had to believe in it. Henry was going to get her to believe if it was the last thing he'd do.

"If you need proof, take them," he told her, "Read them, but whatever you do don't let her see these pages. They're dangerous. If she finds out who you are, then it would be bad."

As they neared the school, Henry began to walk ahead of them.

"I gotta go," he told her, "But I'll find you later and we can get started." He ran past Mary Margaret, eager to get school over with so he could begin more important things. As he hurried on, he couldn't help but call back to Emma again. "I knew you'd believe me!"

"I never said I did!" Emma called out to him.

"Why else would you be here?" Henry said back, all smiles.

That certainly was the question, wasn't it?


	5. The Queen's Gambit

Mary Margaret watched as Henry ran inside. She tried to think back and remember if she had ever seen the boy so excited to go to school, but when she did she couldn't find the memory. It brought a smile to her face at the sight of Henry's excitement, which had been nonexistent for the longest time. The poor boy often seemed like a ghost in school. He floated from class to class, no joy or happiness in his eyes. She had tried to bring back some light into his eyes, which was why she had gifted him the book of stories. It had only sent him running off to chase the fictional character. Well, more than that. It had also sent him in the search for his birth mother, something Mary Margaret never imagined would happen. Henry was back now though. While he struggled to separate the story characters to the real people of Storybrooke, he was smiling again. For the moment, that was enough for Mary Margaret. When her eyes caught who had been following close behind him, it was Mary Margaret's turn to smile.

Emma and her boyfriend slowed to a stop on the sidewalk outside of school. They exchanged a few words, which ended in Killian leaning over to press a kiss to Emma's temple. Mary Margaret didn't know Emma Swan outside of the small meeting they had the day before, but the woman had been kind to her when Regina wasn't. To be honest, Regina Mills was never really nice to her. However, to find such kindness from a stranger warmed Mary Margaret's heart. That stranger was also the reason there was joy in Henry's eyes again. That certainly counted for something in Mary Margaret's book.

"So you've decided to stay," Mary Margaret said, as she made her way up to the two, "I'm glad."

"You are?" Emma asked, somewhat skeptical, "Seriously?"

"Of course," Mary Margaret smiled, "I haven't seen Henry this happy in a while. It's nice to see him smile again. I'm pretty sure that's because of you."

"Yeah, well," Emma shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, "It's temporary. I'm only staying a few days." Mary Margaret's happy expression seemed to soften sadly at that, which made Emma even more uncomfortable. "He's a cool kid though. A little eccentric, but I guess you have to be when you live in such a---"

"Beautiful town," Killian interjected, before Emma could finish her sentence. He knew his choice of words to describe the town was most likely better than hers. "One that I'm going to take the afternoon and explore." He turned his gaze towards Emma with a charming smile on his lips. "Join me?"

"Maybe later," Emma replied, ignoring the flutter in her chest at the way Killian looked at her, "There's some things I need to check out first."

Mary Margaret watched as Killian leaned in to lightly kiss Emma's lips. There was a familiarity in the action, a comfort. While it was a lovely sight to see, there was a small pang of loneliness that struck Mary Margaret all the same.

"Stay out of trouble," Emma warned him.

"As milady commands," Killian regally replied, before he sent a playful wink in Mary Margaret's direction, "Always a pleasure, Ms. Blanchard."

Killian didn't expect to find much in the town of Storybrooke. Hell, he hadn't even heard of the place until the night Henry came. It was cities and activity that Killian found himself drawn to. The possibility of some sort of action. **Adventure.** He never felt quite right sitting in one place for too long. The small town life always sounded on the dull side for Killian and Storybrooke felt like the kind of peaceful place where nothing exciting happened.

From the looks of things, it was as dull as it sounded, if not more.

He passed store after store, brushed and bumped past a few townsfolk as they hurried by him, and wondered if he'd find something worthwhile in town. His feet led him towards the docks. Killian eyed the boathouse, the few boats that were there anchored side-by-side. As he made his way further up the docks, he came across a stray piece of rope. The pad of his thumb brushed along the length of it when he picked it up and the memory of hard hands grasping the rough cord flashed in his mind.

**Hands.**

Killian had grown so comfortable with the way he was now. Flashes of memories from his past life, memories that were more akin to riddles without resolutions, were of little use to him now. For all he knew those memories were nothing more than the mind's need to fill in the gaps, the unanswered questions. A handless man without a past. That was who he was now. Killian didn't want to search for the answers. Not when there was a chance that the answers he searched for were more curse than blessing. By the looks of him, Killian was sure the answers weren't what fairy tales were made of.

"You certainly look comfortable in this environment," a voice said from behind him.

Turning, Killian found himself in the company of Regina Mills once more. He didn't know how the woman had managed to sneak up on him, but Killian refused to let his surprise show. Instead, he toyed with the rope in his hand and leaned against the railing.

"I enjoy the sound," Killian casually replied. He watched as Regina seemed to study him again. The woman seemed to be at war with herself in her own head the way she kept herself from speaking. As much as he enjoyed the idea of being studied by a beautiful woman, Killian only had one woman in mind when it came to that and Regina Mills was not the woman. "Is there something you'd like to ask me, Madam Mayor?"

Regina's eyes narrowed slightly as a switch seemed to flip in her mind. She stood straighter, hands clasped together in front of her as she took a step closer to him. Despite having a few inches on her, Regina's whole demeanor seemed to look down upon him.

"I want to know how you got here," she demanded.

"By car," Killian replied, despite the tone he had received.

"I don't mean how you weaseled your way into my town," Regina spat out, all sense of false politeness forgotten, "I meant _here_."

There was a level of anger in her voice was shocking. What was this woman trying to achieve? What other 'here' was there? Her questions were borderline insane in Killian's mind. It had only been the second time interacting with this woman, yet Killian believed it was two times too many.

"I think we're done here," Killian said, as he gave Regina an uneasy look.

He pocketed the rope and stepped to leave, but Regina didn't let him get far. He had taken all of one step before she blocked his path. The venom-filled words and hard eyes were replaced in an instant, another quick flip of the switch for Regina. Now she stood before him, cold to the bone and ice for eyes.

"We're done when I say we're done," Regina told him, "And this conversation is far from over. I don't know _how_ you got here or what you're trying to achieve, but I'll find out. When I do there'll be no power in this land that could save you."

"I don't take kindly to threats."

"Then think of it as a warning," she said, easily, "Take your little girlfriend and whatever plans you think you have... _and leave my town._ "

Killian kept his gaze leveled with Regina's, unafraid. There was no turning around and hightailing it out of there. This woman wanted him to yield, to bow and scrape. Like being the mayor meant she was some sort of royalty. While he was more than capable of pacifying her madness, there was a part of him that rebelled.

"Consider the warning received," Killian replied, before confidently adding, "But I don't believe I'll be leaving anytime soon." He watched as Regina, who had only just begun to have a look of accomplishment on her face, glared as he continued to speak. "You have quite the little town here. One that I have every intention of exploring. That's not a crime, is it?" A slow smirk appeared on Killian's lips as he watched Regina grow more and more unsatisfied. He didn't know exactly why, but he enjoyed the sight more than he knew he should have.

"You'll regret this," Regina told him.

"That'd be my cross to bear, wouldn't it?" Killian said. The look on Regina's face more than promised that she would make him bear every inch of it. "It was an interesting tactic though," he added, "If I were a lesser man, I'm sure it would have worked. Approaching me alone, the regal tone, the thinly veiled threats to leave town _or else_. You certainly are taking your role as the Evil Queen seriously, aren't you?"

He watched as a flash of recognition and shock appeared on her face.

"You son of a bitch," Regina spat out.

"I trust you'll work harder next time," he told her, as he stepped around her to leave, "It'd be a tragedy if that was all you could come up with."

Pleased that he had gotten under her skin, Killian made his way off. He didn't need to look behind him to know that Regina Mills most likely glared daggers at him. He left the docks with a high head though and an interesting story to share with Emma.

However, Emma had yet to appear later in the afternoon, which left him to finish his stroll around town.

Twice.

Other than the docks and a fairly empty bar, he was less than impressed with the town. He probably would have taken Regina up on her offer to leave town had the woman not ambush him and try to force him out. That sort of thing was never taken kindly. Killian knew that staying a few days in Storybrooke was important to Emma and he was going to be there for her. No amount of empty threats from a stranger would change that.

Killian contemplated going back to Granny's Diner. He never did get that coffee earlier and it seemed like the only place in town to get a decent cup. As he begun to make his way across the street towards the diner, Killian heard someone call out his name. He turned slightly to find Henry approach him quickly. There was an urgency in Henry's eyes that made Killian hurry towards the boy. He brushed and bumped against people as he rushed past them towards Henry.

"Henry," Killian said, as he met the boy halfway on the sidewalk. He didn't get the chance to ask him what his rush was, as Henry had already made a grab for his wrist and began to pull him along. "Henry-"

"I don't know what she did," Henry cut him off, "But she didn't do it. It was a set up. It was the Evil Queen. She did this. I _know_ she did."

"Henry, wait," Killian replied, as he stopped his steps. He took Henry by the shoulders as he bent down to meet his eye level. "Tell me what happened, lad."

"There's no time," Henry insisted, "Emma's in jail and we need to bail her out."

_That_ got Killian's attention. He straightened quickly, patted himself down for his wallet and phone. He certainly had enough money to make bail and get Emma out of whatever she had gotten into.

"Let's go to the station," he told Henry, as he stuck his hands into the pockets of his jeans, "We'll get this sorted out and..." Killian trailed off as his attention shot to his pockets. His phone wasn't where he left it and neither was his wallet. Both items were nowhere to be found.

"What's wrong?" Henry asked, confusion in his voice as he watched Killian pat himself down.

"My wallet," Killian replied, frustration in his voice, "It's _gone."_

"But what about Emma?" Henry asked, as they began to head towards the police station once more, "I don't think my allowance will cover it."

"I don't suppose you have an elaborate breakout planned," Killian said.

Henry didn't, but he might have to consider coming up with one if the good guys were already in trouble their second day in town. He spotted Mary Margaret coming out of the corner store and instantly knew she'd help. She was Emma's mother after all.

"I have the next best thing," Henry announced, before he ran over go his school teacher, "Ms. Blanchard, we need your help."

"Henry, you can't," Killian insisted, "It's too much to ask of her."

"Ask me what?" Mary Margaret asked, as she looked from young boy to man.

"Emma's in jail and we need you to get her out," Henry quickly said, "Killian would have done it, but he lost his wallet-"

"Misplaced," Killian insisted, "Possibly stolen." His face softened as he turned his attention Mary Margaret. "And asking you to pay bail for someone you barely know is-"

"I'll do it," Mary Margaret told him.

"Yes!" Henry hollered out, fist pumped in the air as he celebrated the small win. No matter what evil tried to do, good will always prevail.

Killian watched for a moment as Henry seemingly led the small pack towards the station. He wondered how the hell Emma got arrested, why Mary Margaret was so easy to convince to help, and what possessed Henry to believe all of this was Regina's doing. Whatever the answers were and no matter how insane it was, Killian must have been just as crazy to go along with all of it.

"Apple picking."

That was the only reply Emma had to Killian's question about what her next move was. Like Henry, Emma believed she was set up by Regina. Something about papers from Henry's therapist's office, then the arrest. After Mary Margaret made bail for Emma and the four of them walked out of the station, Emma had it in her head to serve up a bit of outlaw justice.

"We'll all go," Henry insisted, "We're a team-"

"This is sort of something I gotta do alone, kid," Emma explained, before she looked to Killian and Mary Margaret, "Will you take him home?"

"Of course," Mary Margaret replied, as she placed a hand on Henry's shoulder, "We'll give you a minute."

Killian watched as Mary Margaret and Henry stepped off to the side to give them some privacy before he focused completely on Emma. He liked to believe he knew her better than most and that he could read her easily. The expression she wore now told him that she was looking for a little payback.

"I want to assume 'apple picking' is a clever code word for something else," he said, as he took a step closer to Emma.

"Nope," Emma replied, "Pretty clear definition of what I'm about to do."

"Will we be needing to bail you out of jail again?" Killian asked her.

"Technically, you and your lost wallet didn't bail me out."

"Misplaced," Killian corrected, "Possibly stolen."

"Whatever," Emma replied, as she lightly brushed her had along his arm, "Drop the kid off at his place and I'll meet up with you later, okay?"

Emma stepped to leave, but Killian reached out and took one of her hands into his. He stepped forward and brought his lips down to kiss Emma's. Knowing they had an audience, Killian kept it short and sweet. When their lips broke apart, Emma felt Killian give her hand a soft squeeze before he let go.

"The last time you told me you'd see me later you ended up behind bars," Killian softly said, as he reached up to playfully tug at one of Emma's curls, "See to it that you avoid incarceration this time, love."

Emma watched as Killian released the curl he held between his fingers and moved off to join Mary Margaret and Henry. As the three made their way off, she took a deep breath. She didn't want anything she did to hurt Henry, but she knew without a shadow of doubt that Regina had been the one that set her up. Emma wasn't going to let that woman get one up on her, not with some shoddy frame up. Not a chance on hell of that happening.

It was apple picking season and Emma knew exactly where she was going to start.

"Emma's quite... spirited, isn't she?"

Mary Margaret wasn't sure if that word was the right one, but it seemed to be the only word she came up with in the moment. With Henry dropped off at his house, Killian escorted the teacher to her apartment. They walked through the streets of town and the both of them no doubt wondered what the hell Emma was up to. Whatever it was, they had a feeling it would make headlines.

"In her own way," Killian replied, "She definitely has a way of taking on challenges and going after what she wants."

"A good trait to have," Mary Margaret said, before she added, "I can see a little bit of that in Henry. More than a bit, actually. He's such a special kid. So brave and curious."

"From my limited experience, kids are naturally spirited," Killian told her, "That braveness and curiosity about everything they encounter is something we all possess at a young age. Blank slates and such... before the world takes that from us, that is." Mary Margaret looked at him as they crossed the street. She listened as he continued to speak, interested in hearing more. "For some, the harshness of reality beats away at those traits over time. Not completely, but it does to an extent. The unlucky ones have that happen too young, though I'm sure there are ones fortunate enough to slip by relatively unscathed."

"That just sounds so... sad," Mary Margaret couldn't help but say.

"Sounds like life," Killian replied, "It's tragic and often cruel. If you're lucky, you might find someone that makes it all feel a little better."

"Is that what happened with you and Emma?" Mary Margaret asked. She watched as a faint smile appeared on Killian's lips. "You two seem really comfortable together. Content. Have you been together long?"

"A year," Killian replied, "Maybe a bit longer than that." Hell, they slipped into things so smoothly that he wasn't quite sure. Neither he nor Emma were the kind of people that kept track of month-a-versaries. "Not particularly long to some, but quite the stretch of time for us."

He was proud of it too. Killian never expected to be at this place in his life and he knew it was the same for her. They were far from having the whole relationship thing down, but they handled things their own way and it worked for them. At least it worked for them now. Still, knowing Emma was on his side as he was hers was a comfort he was happy to have.

"It's quite the experience, isn't it?" Killian asked, "Having someone in that way."

"I wouldn't know," Mary Margaret replied, her voice soft as she spoke.

"Oh, I refuse to believe that," Killian chuckled, as they slowed to a stop outside of Mary Margaret's apartment building, "The men of Storybrooke can't possibly be that blind to those around them."

"It's true," she told him, a smile on her lips from his words, "I don't know why, but nothing ever seems to work out. I don't even remember the last time I went on a date." There was a sadness in her voice that threatened to spread across her face. Mary Margaret pushed it aside though, forced a brave smile as she looked to Killian. "I don't mind being alone though. At least for now." She pushed through the words, almost as if saying the words made them true. "The one for me is out there somewhere."

"You just need to find the bloody bastard and knock some sense into the man," Killian laughed. Mary Margaret found herself doing the same, unable to keep the laugh in. "A well-intentioned knocking of the senses, of course."

"Of course," Mary Margaret agreed, before she turned towards the door, "Thank you for walking me home, Killian."

"It's no problem," Killian replied, as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat, "You helped Emma today. That makes you more than trustworthy enough in my eyes."

Once Mary Margaret was inside her building, Killian made his way back to Granny's inn. He would have called to check in on Emma, but quickly remembered that his phone and wallet were still missing. When he slipped into the room he shared with Emma, Killian checked every inch of the room in search for them. He couldn't have lost both his wallet and phone at the exact moment when he needed them the most. It was just unheard of.

Part of Killian wondered if Regina had anything to do with it. After their conversation earlier that day, he felt more and more inclined to believe Henry's theories about his adoptive mother being the Evil Queen. Well, about as inclined as one can be when rooted in reality and not imagination. Imaginations of a young boy aside, Killian wouldn't put it past the woman to do something like swipe a phone and wallet, especially if the idea that she had something to do with Emma's incarceration was true.

Killian laid across the bed when he realized searching for his things in the room was a lost cause. He considered retracing his steps in the hopes that some kind citizen of Storybrooke was holding it somewhere for him, but knew that the odds of finding them were not in his favor. He was still on the bed when Emma returned to the room. Her white tank top had some dirt marks and her pants were dusty, but despite all if that Emma wore a look of satisfaction on her face. She had more than enjoyed taking Regina Mills down a few notches. Almost as much as she enjoyed relieving her apple tree of a few branches.

Emma slipped out of her boots as she shuffled over to the side of the bed. At first glance it may have seemed as though her boyfriend had been sleeping, but Emma knew better. His arm was thrown over his face and his chest rose and fell calmly, but there was an alertness in his state that Emma could see from miles away.

"Did you enjoy your outing, my dear?" Killian asked, arm still over his eyes as she sat beside him on the bed.

"Yeah," Emma replied, a smile on her face as the memory of the branch falling off the tree with a thud came to her mind, "It was pretty damn successful."

"I trust you showed enough restraint," he said, as Emma pulled his arm from his face to look at him. He opened his eyes to her then and Emma stared down at the blue eyes she had come to admire.

"I'm sure I did," Emma replied, with an easy shrug of her shoulder, "Enough to make a point."

She watched as Killian reached up and pulled a leaf out of her hair. There was a flash of amusement on his face as he brushed it against his fingers.

"And the point had to do with apple picking?" he asked, before he quickly added, "Or do I not want to know? Knowing would make me an accessory. For all I know I could be harboring a fugitive right now."

"Funny man," Emma dryly said, as she plucked the leaf from Killian's fingers. She shifted closer to him as he wrapped his arm around her waist. "You'd know if I were a fugitive, because I'd tell you and I expect you to meet me at the rendezvous point."

"Ah," Killian grinned, "And the rendezvous point is where again?"

Emma let her forearm rest against his chest as she leaned over his body. Her long hair fell over one shoulder as she brought her lips down towards Killian's. Emma sensed his wanting and his eagerness to kiss her. She didn't give him what he wanted though. Instead she let the faint brush of her lips teased his, let her fingers trail along the front of his shirt.

"Rhode Island," she replied, her words a whisper against his lips, "That's where we'll go."

She felt his fingertips travel up the side of her neck and comb through her hair. He did things like that. Small touches that seemed like such an ordinary act, but had a way of stirring something deep inside of her. Killian Jones hadn't scaled over the walls Emma had built around herself. He had crashed right through them, broke through brick and rock until he found a place for himself in her heart. Their lips had only begun to meet when a knock interrupted them.

"Bloody hell," Killian breathed out, as Emma was pushed herself away from the bed to answer the door.

Emma ignored his protests and pleads to not answer the door and come back to bed. They were mostly made in jest, though she knew the offers of sex he threw in were most likely on the serious side. She hushed him as she opened the door.

Granny Lucas stood on the other side. She wrung her hands nervously as she met Emma's eyes before they flickered over towards Killian, who had swung his legs over the side of the bed to sit up at the sight of her.

"Oh my," the elder Lucas softly said, "This is terribly awkward."

"Not at all," Killian smiled, as he moved to stand behind Emma, "Terribly awkward would have been if you knocked... say... five minutes later?"

Emma nudged Killian within her elbow at his words, slightly worried they would scandalize the kind inn owner. It seemed as though whatever was on Granny Lucas' mind sent the comment straight over her head. She watched as the older woman nervously brought a hand up to touch her hair, to brush over the front of her apron. Whatever was on her mind clearly brought her discomfort.

"I need to ask you to leave," Granny Lucas replied, "I'm afraid we have a 'no felons' rule."

"What?" Killian asked, beside himself with confusion.

"It's a city ordinance."

"Let me guess," Emma flatly replied, "The mayor's office just called to remind you."

Regina. It had to be her. Emma had tangled with and avoided many things in her lifetime, but never in her wildest memories had she come across a mayor with such a strong grip on a town. She had dared Regina Mills to come at her, cut down her precious apple tree the way warriors had thrown down gauntlets. Now the opposition had struck back.

"You can gather your things," the elder Lucas told them, "But I need to have your room key back."

Emma sent Killian a look over her shoulder. City ordinance, her ass. It was nothing but a message. Still, it was a message that they couldn't fight. With no other motel or inn in town, they were without a roof over their heads. It was a minor setback, but nothing that would sideline Emma for long. She pulled the room key from her back pocket and stepped up to Granny Lucas to hand it over. The older woman took it with a saddened smile before she left the couple to collect their things.

"What are you thinking about, love?" Killian's voice drifted into her mind.

"Nothing," Emma replied, as she turned to face her boyfriend. At least nothing she was willing to talk about in that moment She took a quick glance around the room, decided that it wouldn't take them long to grab their stuff. They didn't have much time to get comfortable anyway. "Let's go," she told him, "We'll get everything and figure it all out in the car."

Sleeping in her car was something Emma had done plenty of times. It didn't even top the list of terrible places she had slept in over the years. It was fairly cramped, but she had made it work for her. Luckily, she wasn't alone. She had Killian this time, who was no stranger to sailing on rough waters. Even luckier, his car had much more legroom. Roughing it for a night or two wouldn't be easy, but they would make it work for them in the end.

It was only a week in town anyway.

At least that was the plan.

They had collected the few items they brought into the room and made their way out of the inn. It was apparent from the look on both the Widow Lucas and her granddaughter's face that neither were pleased with the fact that Emma and Killian were forced to leave. The two women seemed to have the inn to themselves most nights. Not many seemed to vacation in Storybrooke.

"I was told the city ordinance also bans you from parking in the parking lot," Granny Lucas told them, her voice hushed as she added, "However... I don't believe the 'no felons' rule extends towards public places. For instance, the sidewalks on Main St."

"Just don't park on the red line," Ruby added, before a small smirk came to her lips as she looked from Emma to Killian, "And don't do anything I would do... or just don't get caught if you do."

Killian bit the inside of his cheek to keep from chuckling as he and Emma left the two women, who began to bicker over Ruby's comment. They moved towards the parking lot, ready to turn in for the night. As they stepped through the woodland into the clearing, something caught the corner of Emma's eye.

A hooded figure stood beside Killian's car.

His **open** car.

This son of a bitch was trying to rob them.


	6. Missing Pieces

"Hey!"

With that single yell, Emma was off and after the intruder. She heard Killian call out something behind her, but didn't quite catch what was said. There was a more pressing matter at the moment, which was catching the bastard. Emma knew the tricks of being a thief. She used to be one. No matter how many years had passed and who she was these days, Emma couldn't forget what she learned stealing from others. Just like she couldn't forget how a thief ran away from those who tried to track them down. There were certain levels to being a criminal, different categories one could be placed in. Emma made it a point to know which ones did what and how they’d act in certain situations. It was that knowledge that allowed her be so damn good in her line of work.

Who better to chase a criminals than a former criminal?

She cut through the parking lot in pursuit of the hooded figure. The son of a bitch was a fast one, but Emma knew she could hold her own in the chase. During setups with bail jumpers, Emma usually had the time to plan out things. To know her exits, take care of any possible route the jumper might take to escape. She didn't have that now. All she had were her two legs, some stamina, and the drive to catch whoever the hell thought they could get away with stealing something from her and Killian.

The thief took a harsh turn into the back alley behind Granny’s, arms out to knock over anything they could find into Emma’s path. Luckily, Storybrooke wasn't as trash infested as other towns and Emma only had to avoid the odd garbage can or two. The sound of a siren echoed in the distance as they rounded the other side of the building. Just as they ran onto the sidewalk, Emma threw her body forward. She drove her shoulder into the back of the hooded runner, pushed as much of her weight into it as she could. Both bodies were sent skidding to a stop on the sidewalk, a mess of body parts against pavement.

The slam from the fall and scrapes from the sidewalk sent a small shock of pain through Emma. She brushed off the feeling, knowing that her opponent would be feeling the same. Time was of the essence and she had to capitalize on it while she still could. Emma rolled onto her side just as the runner did the same, back towards her. As the runner began to rise, Emma reached out her arm. She had grabbed a hold of the coat's hood and had tugged. It was then that she finally caught sight of the thief.

Long, blonde hair tumbled from beneath the hood as Emma pulled at the fabric, which quickly followed by a flash of icy blue eyes.

Her runner was a woman.

"Freeze!" cried out a third party.

The accent belonged to the local sheriff, who approached the scene with his weapon drawn. In the town of Storybrooke, chasing suspects on foot and burglaries in general were basically non-existent. At least it had been before Emma Swan had come to town. Graham watched as Emma rose to her feet, hands clasped onto the other woman as she dragged her up as well. He didn't know what it was about Emma Swan, but trouble seemed to follow her around. At least this time she managed to be on the right side of the law.

"Would you like to read her Miranda rights as well?" Graham asked Emma, as he put away his piece and moved to handcuff the runner.

"You're the cop," Emma replied, slightly out of breath from the chase as Graham hauled the thief up from the ground. As she rose to her own feet, Emma brushed her hand over herself, made mental notes of the areas of pain and scratches. She then followed as Graham led the way towards his squad car, "That's your job."

The bright lights of the squad car illuminated the street corner as Emma watched Graham guide the woman into the back seat and closed the door after her. The way the woman kept composed through it all sent Emma's radar on high alert. No one was that put together after an incident like that. Usually culprits plead innocence or beg for some slack. At least that was what Emma saw when she was on the job. This one was all coolness, as if she were taking a ride to the corner store instead of a jail cell. The woman would spend the night there and Emma would go to the station in the morning with Killian. She may not have said a word then, but they'd make sure she'd speak up when the time came.

When Emma made her way back towards Granny’s, she found Killian rooting through his car. He had checked every inch of it, looking to see if anything was out of place or missing. His experience with Storybrooke hadn't been any better than hers. Before Storybrooke, Killian had been a fairly regular guy. He had always rolled with the punches, which was something Emma appreciated. Moving around, taking odd jobs to get by... They had connected in the fact that they were so disconnected from the rest of the world. Now she had planted them down in the smallest of towns and thrown him into situation after situation. A part of Emma felt bad that she had dragged him into this mess.

“Anything missing?” she asked, as she stopped to lean against the side of his car.

“Besides my pride, you mean?” Killian dryly laughed, “Nothing that I can see. Bloody bastard still broke into the damned thing though.”

“Bitch," Emma corrected, "The person was a woman. I chased her down, then Graham appeared. He took her in. She'll probably spend the night sleeping on a cot behind bars."

"I had Ruby call the sheriff," Killian said, as he leaned against the car beside Emma, "I wasn't sure if you heard me when I said I would. You were running after the woman." Emma leaned against the side of his body as Killian wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I appreciate that, by the way. That was quite the heroic moment, Swan. Soon you'll be defending my honor and slaying dragons in my name."

"No dragons," Emma quickly replied, as her mind drifted back to everything Henry said about fairy tales, "No heroes. Let's just..."  **Get out of there.**  That was the first instinct for Emma. To run. It would be easy enough, but Emma knew that wouldn't satisfy her in the long run. Not when she was just getting to know Henry. "Let's just find a place to crash for the night and turn in. We'll deal with everything else in the morning."

Killian nodded, knowing that was just what they needed to do. As Emma turned to get things ready, something caught Killian's eye. He reached out to grasp Emma's elbow with his good hand and drew her back towards him. Her forearm was scratched, traces of dirt and blood on her skin. She hadn't noticed it in all the excitement, barely noticed the pain when she took that spill knocking down the runner. Even after it all went down, Emma didn’t focus on it until Killian pointed it out in that moment.

"You're hurt," Killian explained, when Emma opened her mouth to protest.

"Only a scratch," Emma replied. She watched as Killian brought her arm closer for inspection. It was nothing a second under a faucet won't fix... if they had a place with a faucet, that is. "It's not that bad."

Killian was less than convinced of that. They parked and settled in for the night on a street near the center of town. Emma decided that it would be best if they crashed in Killian’s car. It was mainly for foot room, because Emma could barely sleep in her own car without minor discomfort. It was also partly for safety. While Emma knew the thief had been locked up for the night, she didn't want to take any chances. Far too many things had happened to them since they arrived in town.

After they made sure Emma’s car was locked, the two settled in the front seat of Killian’s ride, a small first aid kit wedged between their seats. Because it would have driven Killian mad knowing Emma left her wounds untended, he had dragged out the bandages. Emma watched in silence as Killian went to work. He took his time, carefully cleaned her scratch from any blood and grime before putting the bandage in place.

"You didn't have to do all of this," Emma said, as she ran her gaze over the work he had done. He had done a good job of it. She bit back the smile that came to her lips as Killian brushed his fingers along the bandage. Emma leaned closer to Killian, reached up to cup the side of his face with her other hand. “But… I guess it’s not that bad having you around when you do things like this.”

Emma chuckled as Killian turned his head to playfully nip at her hand. His lips continued to brush along her wrist and forearm as she combed her fingers through his hair. She let her hand rest at the nape of his neck as Killian raised his head to look at her. There was no one else in her life that looked at her the was Killian did. Like she was  **wanted**. Knowing that sent a warmth through Emma, which was something that would have embarrassed her the year before. She smiled now at the attention though, one that instantly brought one to Killian’s lips.

“Not bad having you around either, Swan.”

Sleeping in a car was something Emma was used to. It was actually one of the higher ranking places to crash on her list in terms of comfort; the lower being public benches in a busy city and anywhere with sand. She had done more than her share of months as a squatter, which always ran the risk of having to run at one point or another. It wasn’t a luxurious life, but it was the only one she knew. No matter where the place, Emma always made it work for her.

This time was no different.

With Killian stretched out as far as he possibly could and asleep in the passenger’s seat, Emma raked her eyes through a copy of the town’s newspaper for a room for rent. Flashlight in hand, she went page by page. It figured that a town as tiny as Storybrooke would have absolutely no place available. No apartment, no studio, not even a room above a store.  **Nothing.**  Emma resisted the urge to crumple the damn thing and toss it out the window. How did anyone get a place in this town? Maybe it was one of those ‘have to know somebody’ things, which didn’t bode well for someone who just got to town.

“Hey, Emma,” a soft voice spoke, “You okay?”

Emma looked up from her newspaper, surprised to see Mary Margaret lean forward to peer into the car. The sight before the woman must be a new one, because Emma could see a small level of concern on Mary Margaret’s face. Emma quickly pushed away the embarrassment and slipped behind the safety of the walls she had built years ago. Even though she got it often enough, Emma didn’t need anyone’s concern or pity. She had made it this far without it.

“In the world of tight spots I’ve been in,” Emma quickly replied, “Crashing in my car doesn’t even rank in the top ten.”

“You’re sleeping here?” Mary Margaret asked, as her eyes moved over the vehicle.

Mary Margaret spotted Killian beside Emma in the car, a jacket tucked behind his head like a pillow as he slept. She had thought that the two had taken up at the Lucas’ inn.

“‘Til I find a place.”

Mary Margaret’s ears perked up at that. Emma planned on staying in Storybrooke? She had imagined the woman staying a day or two, but not long enough to find and settle into a place. Until it dawned on her.

“You decided to stay for Henry,” Mary Margaret smiled, “I think he’d really like that. You staying.”

Emma didn’t know what to say to that. She knew the kid had been quick to like her, but Emma didn’t really think about the fact that Henry would be feeling all those potential motherly emotions towards her. As they stood right now, Henry was a cool enough kid and she hadn’t treated him as anything but that. Still, the idea that he’d be happy with her around was… way too much for Emma to go over in that moment. Just like everything else in her life.

“The stay would be a lot more comfortable with a place,” Emma said, as she set aside the items in her hands. She slipped out of the car, careful not to loudly close the door and wake Killian. “There isn’t a single space available. None.”

“Must be the curse,” Mary Margaret replied with a hint of amusement.

It was impossible not to chuckle at that. With Henry’s crazy notions going around, it wouldn’t be long before the whole town can chalk up their bad luck to the mayor and the curse she cast. Emma scanned the street, virtually empty with the exception of herself and the school teacher. She took a quick glance at the clocktower in the distance, noted the time before she brought her attention back to Mary Margaret. Surely there had to be papers that needed grading or whatever the hell teachers did on school nights.

“Why are you out so late?” she asked Mary Margaret.

“Well, I’m a teacher, not a nun,” Mary Margaret said, arms crossed over her chest to keep out the cold. There was a tiredness in her voice, a faint hint of sadness in her eyes that she tried to keep away with a bright face. “I had a date.”

“From the looks of things, it went well.”

“As well as they ever do.”

“Tell me he at least paid.”

From the expression on Mary Margaret’s face, Emma could tell that the guy didn’t even do that. What the hell kind of town was this that a nice woman like Mary Margaret couldn’t even get dinner paid for her? At least if the guy paid the whole thing wouldn’t be a complete bust.

“Well, I guess if true love was easy, we’d all have it,” Mary Margaret said, with a shrug of her shoulder. She believed in happy endings, in finding her true love. Dating a few frogs until she met her prince was something Mary Margaret just had to deal with. “You know, if things get cramped… I do have a spare room.”

Emma, who had already been hesitant over the love talk, seemed to freeze at the talk of a spare room. Mary Margaret offered her a room? In her place? Well, of course her place. Emma had to mentally smack herself for thinking that one. Where the hell else would she offer? The woman had only just met her a day ago. It wasn’t possible for someone to be that nice. At least without having some kind of issue or skeleton in the closet. Generous people just didn’t exist in Emma’s world.

“Thanks…” she began to say, “I’m... not really the roommate type.”

She watched as Mary Margaret’s eyes shifted quickly from her to Killian, then back to her. It was obvious the teacher was wondering her situation with her boyfriend now, which caused Emma another mental smack to her forehead. Of course she had some level of roommate in her if she could shack up with her boyfriend. Then again, she was sleeping with him. That sort of axed the whole roommate thing, right? Emma wasn’t sure. This was all still new territory for her.

“It’s just not my thing,” Emma quickly tried to amend, “I do better on my own.”

Mary Margaret didn’t seem to notice her discomfort, though Emma was sure a blind man would be able to tell at this rate. If she did, she hid it well and kept her smile on her face.

“Well, if you change your mind…” Mary Margaret said, leaving it up in the air. Damn. The woman might just be the nicest person Emma had ever met. It was both comforting and scary as hell to her. “Goodnight,” she added, as she began to leave, “Good luck with Henry.”

Emma watched as Mary Margaret made her way off before she slipped back into the car. With a sigh, she rolled up the driver’s side window. The offer for a room was a kind one and an offer Emma didn’t think she could take. As she got comfortable in her seat and prepared to turn in, Emma turned her head to gaze in Killian’s direction. He was fast asleep in his side, his back towards her. It had taken her a while to be comfortable with the idea of living with someone she really cared about. How could she possibly add another person living in a space with her? One that, as nice as Mary Margaret was, Emma  **just**  met?

She snapped out of her thoughts as Killian began to shift. He slowly turned, faced her. Emma watched as a pair of blue eyes blinked open, as a tired smile appeared. A murmured ‘sleep, love’ came from his lips before he reached over to link his fingers with hers. She watched as his eyelids fell and listened as his breathing slowed. Maybe she’d tell Killian about Mary Margaret’s offer in the morning.

After they deal with everything else, that is.

Sheriff Graham Humbert walked into the police station early that morning. It wasn’t a rare occurrence for him to do it, though work in a small town was usually scarce and lacked in excitement. More often than not, the worst thing to happen in town was having to haul in Leroy for an overnighter due to his fighting. The man was always in a sour mood. However, despite the man’s less than sunny disposition, Graham never quite saw him as trouble. Leroy would do his time, sleep off the drinks, then send him a forced smile upon his eventual release.

This morning would be different though. Graham expected Emma to come by and leave a statement about the night before, which would mean some light paperwork before his patrol through town. Of course, his usual routine would be sent off course that day. He had to deal with the woman currently slept behind the bars. The one who had been the reason the night before had ended in excitement. The wrong kind of excitement, of course.

Graham placed his coffee cup down before he slipped out of his coat. He laid it against the back of one of the office chairs, set his hip against the desk afterwards. Arms crossed over his chest as he gave the woman a cautious once-over. He knew everyone in this town. It wasn’t hard not to, especially considering he was the sheriff. However, this woman was someone who completely escaped his memory. That automatically set him on the defensive. The fact that his first impression of her was one of thievery was another thing that caused him to eye her with suspicion.

“Rise and shine,” he finally spoke, before he reached to take a hold of his coffee.

Graham watched as the woman slowly opened her eyes, completely undeterred by her surroundings.  **Comfortable**  even.

“We’ll be having company soon, you and I,” Graham continued, before he took a sip from his cup, “With the woman you decided to steal from. Won’t that be fun?”

He waited as the thief stretched, pushed her body up into sitting position. Her moves were cat-like, with the same smooth grace. Still she said nothing, even as she slipped from the bed and stepped towards the bars of the jail cell. She hung her wrists on the metal, let her hands dangle as she watched him take a sip from his coffee. It was a strange feeling for Graham to basically have a conversation with himself, knowing the person he was speaking to could hear every word he was saying. He was well liked in town. Everyone spoke to him.

“Silence won’t quite help you get released,” Graham told her, “Perhaps we could start with a name?”

“Killian Jones.”

She spoke with a British accent, which --- paired with her less than proper attire --- threw Graham off slightly. Well, that and the fact that she clearly said someone else’s name. He was about to question her about it, but stopped as her gaze shifted just past him. Graham turned and found both Emma and her boyfriend standing just outside the doorway, a look of confusion on both their faces. They had walked in during the conversation and clearly were just as in the dark as he was.

"What?" She asked, as she noticed the surprised faces in the room, "You already have me behind bars. Do you honestly believe I’m worried about you finding out about my lifting a wallet?”

“Stole a wallet,” Killian replied.

“‘Stole’ is a rather ugly term,” the woman said, “‘Momentarily procuring’ would be more suitable for me.”

“Spin it however you like, but it’s not going to spring you from the cage,” Emma told her. She moved further into the room until she stopped on the other side of the bars. This woman was a walk in the park compared to some of the bail jumpers she had tracked down. “So maybe it’s time to stop playing games and start answering some questions.”

From behind her, Killian watched as the woman slowly smiled at Emma’s words. He sent a look in Graham’s direction. He thought that guy was supposed to be running things, but he couldn’t fault Emma for slipping into the authoritative role. Emma came by it so naturally, especially when she was invested. The sheriff must have felt the power shift, because he finally stepped forward to take control back.

“A name,” Graham said, calmly, “Preferably your own.”

"Lucy."

"Nice name," Emma asked, arms raised to cross over her chest, "You got a last one to go with it?"

"My first is good enough for now," Lucy replied to Emma, before she turned her attention to Graham, "Your deputy has quite the 'take charge' attitude."

"I'm not his deputy."

"She's not my deputy."

Killian raised an eyebrow slightly as Emma and Graham spoke in unison, a level if discomfort grew between them when they did. While Killian was more than confident in his relationship with Emma, he had no idea what the deal was with her and the good sheriff. The only other time he had witnessed the two of them together was the mishap over the sent over cup of cocoa. That moment couldn't have possibly been the cause of all this awkwardness.

"I think now would be the time to start explaining," Emma said, the first to break the silence.

"Nothing to explain," Lucy replied, "I lifted a wallet, then attempted the car."

“That’s all?” Emma repeated, unconvinced.

“That's not all you want?" The woman asked, before she added, "I would have imagined that was plenty enough.”

Emma watched the woman for a moment before she turned from the cell. Her eye caught Killian's for a moment as she stepped away from the bars, but it was enough for him. He moved with her soon after, left the good sheriff to continue his business. Killian stopped beside Emma as she turned to watch Graham speak to the woman. He knew the look on her face. She had that look on her face the first day he met her. It was the look she got when she used her special skill.

"What are you thinking, love?" Killian asked, his tone hushed.

"I think she's telling the truth about your things," Emma replied, before a sigh escaped her lips, "But she’s holding something back… and ever since we got to this town there's been trouble for us. It can't all be a coincidence."

All Emma needed was a little more time with the woman to get out whatever she was hiding. Before she was able to make a move to do so, Emma’s phone buzzed. It had taken her by surprise, the fact that someone had called her. That was how rare people were in her life. She dug a hand into her back pocket, retrieved the cell to check the call.

**Unknown number**.

Killian watched as Emma moved towards the hallway to answer her call in private before he turned his attention back to Lucy and Graham. Emma didn’t believe that the events they came across the past few days were a coincidence. Neither did he. Killian might not believe in Henry’s wild theories about fairy tales and a queen that kept a whole town under a curse, nor did he believe the thief was the root of their problems. However, he did believe that Lucy could possibly be a brush stroke in the bigger picture.

It was later in the day when Emma made her way out of Mary Margaret’s apartment, crossed the street where Killian waited. Henry had called her at the station, asked her to meet him at his play castle by the beach. He had told her that he found her father, which had more than thrown her. Henry told her some John Doe at the local hospital was her father, placed there when the curse happened. The only thing that tipped Henry off about the identity of the man being the fact that he had a scar on his face, one similar to the character in his book. Emma knew it wasn’t true though. Not when it had to do with his idea that everyone was some character out of a fairytale. Emma had no idea how she tried to wrap her mind around the idea that Mary Margaret, the meek school teacher who was the same age as her, was her mother. There was just no way she can accept the addition of a father on top of that. The logic was twisted enough. Henry was just so certain though and Emma still didn’t have it in her to shatter the illusion.

There had to be another way to ease him into the truth.

Unfortunately that meant having to include Mary Margaret into things.

“I cannot believe you brought that nice woman into this mess,” Killian said, a faint chuckle in his voice as Emma made her way up to him.

“It was the only way,” Emma replied, “She doesn’t know the guy and if she can help show Henry that, then we should take the chance. Like you said, she’s nice. She’ll break it to him carefully, not hurt his feelings or anything.”

“You’re right,” Killian easily added, “It’s the only way and it’s not like she’s not a part of things. What with the town already technically involved, being cursed fictional characters and all.”

“Please don’t tell me you believe in all that,” Emma said, her face scrunched slightly at his words. That look brought a laugh out of her boyfriend. She knew Killian often played devil’s advocate, tried to open things up for discussion, even when he didn’t necessarily agree with what he said. “Fairy tales, curses…”

Killian flashed Emma a bright smile, wrapped his left arm around her shoulder. Almost automatically, Emma reached up and curled her fingers around the cuff of his jacket. There had been a time where their movements hadn’t been so in sync. The gesture would have been met with uneasiness and returned with hesitation, constant reminders back then of the fact that neither were quite used to such casual displays of affection. Things were different now, which was something Killian was happy for.

“It would certainly make for quite the adventure, wouldn’t it?” he teased.

“I got in a crash and woke up in jail, then you came to town and got your things taken,” Emma flatly replied, “We’ve had enough adventure.”

She followed Killian as he led her down the streets of Storybrooke, leaned against him slightly as she walked. There were so many reasons why they shouldn’t stay in town long. Her job, his job, their things back in Boston, the fact that they had no place… There was Henry though. As much as Emma wished he didn’t factor into things, he did. Henry had crashed into her world and shifted it dramatically. Now that she knew who he was to her, Emma just couldn’t walk away. Not when all she ever wanted to do was be close to him and definitely not when she was unsure of his home situation.

Emma tried to push away the growing worry that had begun to form since meeting Henry. She brought her focus back to Mary Margaret and the plan they had created. If Mary Margaret could help cushion the blow of reality for Henry with that whole John Doe issue, then maybe it could open up the pathway for Henry forgetting about fairy tales.

As his girlfriend drifted, lost in her thoughts, Killian drifted as well. It was his feet however that did the drifting. The town wasn't a large one, but it had it's charm. It also had one place Killian always felt at home. He didn't know what drew him towards the docks, but Killian knew it wasn't just Storybrooke. It happened everywhere he went. That pull towards the ocean, the peace it brought.

The sea called to him.

It had since the moment he was pulled from the waters and given his second chance at life.

"You can take the man out of the ocean," Emma teased, when she realized where they were heading.

"But not the ocean out of the man," Killian finished for her.

They moved along the docks, found a bench to sit on for the moment. With no one else around in the area, the sound of water and wind filled the air. Emma leaned her head against Killian's shoulder and relaxed as she felt his hand brush along her shoulder and arm. It was soothing, a tiny moment of peace during the week-long trip from hell. She felt his lips brush the top of her head, felt him smile there.

“I wish we still had our room at the inn,” he murmured against her hair.

“Yeah,” Emma replied, as she felt Killian’s hand travel down to lace with her own, “Cramped cars aren’t really the greatest place once you get used to rooms with a view. Indoor plumbing’s always a plus.”

“That and rooms give a certain amount of… privacy.”

Emma raised an eyebrow in his direction, only to be met with an all too knowing smile. She knew the tones of his voice and which one meant what, but even a fool would've been able to tell where Killian was coming from. Even if she didn't have the sound of his voice to go off from, his body was telling her everything she needed to know. From the feeling of his thumb as it brushed against the back of her hand to the way his body pressed lightly against hers from where he sat. Even the look in his eye said it.

This was a man who wanted nothing more than to be with a woman.

To be with  **her**.

"We never had a problem with lack of privacy before," Emma pointed out, which only brought more of a curve to Killian's lips.

"Well, darling, you could be very persuasive when you want to be," Killian grinned, "Also that was before we found ourselves in the smallest town nobody knows about. I feel like this is a place where you can’t litter without some citizen seeing it."

Mary Margaret's offer nudged at the back of Emma's mind and began to work its way towards the front. Neither of them were particularly comfortable sleeping in a car and they sure as hell weren't going to last without a proper shower. It seemed like the most logical solution.

“Mary Margaret might’ve offered a place to crash," she finally said, "Her place, more specifically."

Killian smiled, clearly pleased with the new information. The look was short lived though, as he noticed Emma didn’t quite share the same look of elation he had.

“You want to crash there,” Emma knowingly remarked.

“And you don’t. Is it Mary Margaret?”

“What?” Emma asked, before she quickly added, “No. Of course not.”

“Then what is it, love?” Killian unwound his arm from around her, shifted on the bench to face her fully, “We’re in need of a place and she’s offering.” He saw the apprehension continue to form on her face and decided to take a different angle on the subject. “You want to stay in town, Emma. Why?”

“You know why. I’m doing this for Henry. It sure as hell isn’t for my health.”

“Staying for Henry means moving what little we have from Boston to town,” he continued, “We can’t start hauling in boxes with no place to put them. Our vehicles could only get us so far, Swan. Surely we could be in much worse company than an overly polite teacher in an overly peaceful town.”

Despite her own personal issues with the offer, Emma knew Killian was right. She had said that she would stay a week, just to make sure Henry was okay, but that clearly wasn’t going to be enough time. Not when every time she and the kid spent time together the idea of leaving him alone became more and more impossible.

“I just need some time,” Emma told him, “To think about it.”

“Time is a luxury,” he warned her, carefully, “One we might not have.”

“A day isn’t too much of a stretch for us.”

“I’m not so sure,” Killian confessed, an arc in his brow, “A lot can happen in the course of a day. Surely our experiences in town are proof of that.”

“We handled what came our way the past few days,” Emma said, “We’ll do it again.”

She nudged her knee against Killian’s. A smile appeared on her lips as he returned the gesture. A soft laugh escaped Emma’s lips as she reached out and grabbed a hold of the front of Killian’s shirt. He leaned in all too willingly, happily kissed her as she moved closer to him. Whatever concerns Killian had and whatever issues Emma had weren’t going to be a problem for them.

At least not any time soon.

“What do you mean he’s missing?”

The next morning, Killian had stayed behind as Emma went to meet Mary Margaret at Granny’s and execute their plan for Henry. Of course, like many things since they came to town, things didn’t go as planned. Instead of getting Henry to stop believing, Mary Margaret began to believe. She had stirred John Doe and, in turn, had been stirred in the process. Killian had been at the docks again when he received a call from Emma, who had gone after an elated Henry and a hopeful Mary Margaret to the hospital.

Apparently their John Doe was not nearly as comatose as they were led to believe.

“He’s missing, as in… missing,” Emma replied to Killian’s question, as she got him up to speed on the whole ordeal, “I’ve got to help find him. This is all my fault.”

“Emma, you don’t control things like this,” Killian insisted, “This isn’t your burden to carry.”

“I got Mary Margaret into this, I gave her Henry’s book to read to the guy,” she explained. Emma felt Killian rest his hand flat along her hip. She let him draw her forward, crowd her space. “I’m making it my business and I’m going to find him.”

“You can’t go alone.”

“I won’t,” Emma replied. She spared a quick glance towards the hallway. Mary Margaret stood with Graham and the doctor in charge, waiting for her. “I’ve got Mary Margaret… and Graham.”

If Killian were jealous, he had been good about showing it. Emma watched as he sent a quick look in the direction of the others, took it in. Mary Margaret was invested in John Doe and, naturally, the sheriff would be part of the search. Killian had his reservations on the sheriff, on his interactions with Emma. He knew better than to be a bloody barbarian over it though. Not when Emma was concerned.

“Are we going to have to talk about this?” Emma asked him, her hands raised slightly to rest on her hips.

Instead of answering her question, Killian raised his hand slowly from her hip to her face. He brushed his fingers slowly through the curls of her hair before resting his palm against the back of her head. He leaned in and met her soft lips with his own, pressed a soft kiss there. The kiss stayed chaste, though the look in Killian’s eyes as he broke away from her was anything but.

“Be safe,” Killian told her, though they both knew it didn’t need to be said.

“I’ll call you and check in later.”

The Evil Queen must have done something.

Henry didn’t know what, but he knew it was because of her. There was no way to really prove anything. She was far too powerful. The villains always were. It was up to the heroes to figure out a way to defeat them. That meant he had to do what needs to be done to protect the fairy tale characters. Even if it meant sneaking out and finding Emma after his mom made it a point to keep him away from her. It wasn’t hard to get away. His mom was always busy and he knew how to go about unnoticed. Making it all the way to Boston was proof of that. He was able to get his operation in motion with Emma in Boston, but that was a solo mission with no evil doers in play. They were in Storybrooke now and the Evil Queen’s power could extend anywhere in town. That meant every moment counted with Henry.

The station had been the first place on his list when in search for Emma. Whether Emma was willing to admit it or not, she was always there. Well… not always. She hasn’t been there when he came in. Neither was the sheriff. The only person there had been someone locked up and even she couldn’t give him any information.

At least anything about John Doe.

“Killian!” Henry called out when he spotted the man down the street.

Emma wasn’t with him, but maybe he knew where she might be. He knew who Killian was to Emma. He might be a kid, but he wasn’t a dumb one. Killian should be able to help him catch up with Emma. If anything, Henry could at least share his newest discovery.

At the sight of Henry, Killian quickly made his way over. How the hell did this kid keep giving everyone the slip? The child was far from a menace, but he sure was a handful of trouble for someone so small. Killian wasn’t bothered by him though. He was young, full of imagination, and practically harmless. Emma obviously had fallen for the boy too and Killian knew that meant he was special.

Even if that meant getting dragged into his wild fairy tale theories.

“Have you seen Emma?” Henry asked him, “I want to help find Prince Charming.”

“I haven’t, lad,” Killian replied, “Last I saw her, she went off with Mary Margaret and the local law.”

He thought of the mayor and the potential hell that would come knowing Henry was out and about.

“Should you be out alone?”

Henry shot him a look.

“Forget I asked,” Killian quickly amended, “We’ll find her together then.”

Killian began to walk, but stopped instantly when he felt Henry reach out and grab a hold of his jacket.

“There’s something else,” Henry said. Killian wasn’t sure he was prepared for whatever Henry had planned. “I went to see if Emma would be at the sheriff’s station and she wasn’t there, but there was another woman and she said her name was Lucy. So I started to talk to her and--”

“Henry,” Killian interjected, “That woman is a criminal. No one was there. Not Emma or the sheriff. You’re a spirited boy, but you have to be more careful.”

“We just talked,” Henry replied, “And she might be a criminal in this world, but she’s one of the good guys, okay?”

“From your book,” Killian quickly realized.

“Yes!” the boy exclaimed, relieved that Killian was finally getting it, “She might seem bad, but she’s cursed. She doesn’t know who she is.”

Killian shifted down to meet Henry’s level and looked the kid straight in the eye. He knew that asking the question on his mind would only lead him further into the madness, but his own damn curiosity had gotten the better of him.

“Henry,” he carefully asked, “Who is she?”

His eyes shone with a growing excitement.

“Robin Hood.”


	7. Song for the Lonely

**Robin Hood.**

Henry said the name with such authority, such conviction, that to say otherwise almost felt wrong. Killian didn't know how to take on the situation. It was all fun and games when Emma was around, talk of royalty and witches. Killian was able to joke about this crazy notion that this town was filled with characters from stories. However, being alone with Henry, he felt the need to be cautious. The last thing he wanted to do was upset the child or something even more damaging. If Emma was around, he was sure she'd come up with some clever way to handle this situation. However, as he was without her and had to deal with this one on his own, Killian had to make good with what he had when it came to children.

Which was nothing.

"That's quite the theory, Henry," Killian carefully said.

He straightened on his legs and followed the boy as he began to walk off, no doubt in search of Emma.

"It's not a theory if it's true," Henry replied, as Killian fell into step with him, "There are a lot of stories in the book. I've been able to connect most of them to people in town, but then I  _realized_  something. The book only has so many pages and Storybrooke is  _full_  of people. They can't all be in the book."

For a town planted in the middle of nowhere, it did have a lot of people and Killian knew it was doubtful each one of their stories would fit in that book of Henry's.

"After I figured out most of the people in the book, I started a list of people that aren't in the book."

"And Robin Hood was one of them," Killian said, before he cautiously added, "You're aware that every story presented Robin as a man, yes?"

"Maybe something got messed up along the way," Henry replied, "Stories, names… Things can change over time. Important moments could've be forgotten, history could've be altered, people could've told the story wrong. We just don't notice it happening because we've been told the same thing over and over."

"And just because someone says it's true doesn't necessarily mean it really is," Killian continued the thought.

Killian turned his attention towards Henry. It seemed logical enough, despite the completely illogical place they had started from. He just had to go along with Henry's way of thinking. At least until the boy realized the truth on his own.

_"You weren't supposed to get caught."_

Lucy raised her head slightly from the pillow provided to her and watched the figure enter the room. The arrest had been a minor annoyance to Lucy. However, the prolonged stay behind bars had begun to grate on her nerves. The food provided? Less than stellar. The creaky plank they called a mattress? Even worse. Sure, she had entertainment with the local law, but it would only be a matter of time before that went sour as well. It was about damn time for her release.

"What does it matter when the job was completed in the end?" Lucy asked, before she added, "I still don't understand what's so important about this man. I could understand lifting the wallet and phone, but rooting through the car as well?"

She swung her legs over the side of the cot as she sat up, pushed aside the blanket that had previously been draped over her. Everyone had their off days and this was undoubtedly Lucy's. She could only hope the arrival of her employer meant those days were over. Lucy watched as the mayor eyed the room in disdain. A woman in Regina Mills' position shouldn't have to step foot in the police station, much less associate herself with someone behind bars.

"What is it about Killian Jones that warrants such a thorough search?" she asked the mayor, as she rose to her feet.

"That's of no concern to you," Regina replied, her tone all business, "Just tell me what I want to know."

"There's nothing to know."

Lucy earned a look of disbelief from Regina. She moved to lean against the bars of the cell, her eyes steady as she met the mayor's growing glare. The woman can believe what she wanted, but Lucy did the job she was asked to do. It wasn't her fault the outcome wasn't what the mayor wanted.

"It's the truth," Lucy insisted, "Identification from the state of Rhode Island, a couple of dollars, a debit card. All in his name. A handful of numbers on his cell phone. His car's spotless and there was nothing important inside of it. Nothing suspicious or curious. Whatever you hoped to find isn't there, Regina. He's clean. Practically to the point of being dull, if you ask me."

"I don't remember asking you," Regina said. She tried to keep her composure, though the frustration had begun to build inside of her. It didn't matter what the thief had or hadn't found. Killian Jones was not the man he claimed to be. Regina was absolutely certain of it. "There is a reason he's here and it's not because he's some doting boyfriend to the woman hanging around  _my_  son.."

"Is this some sort of strange, romantic jealousy situation?" Lucy asked, before she added, "Because, while the money was much appreciated for the job I was given, my skills were utterly wasted if that's the case."

"It's  _not_  romantic," the mayor hissed out, "I simply don't like when strangers come into town."

Especially strangers who come poking around her business.

And her son.

"Well, he might be a stranger, but there's certainly nothing strange about him," Lucy announced, "Now, if you'd be so kind, I'd appreciate my release from this pit of boredom."

She flashed Regina a bright smile as she tapped the iron bars with her fingertips. It was time she was sprung from the cage she was in. Regina seemed to have other ideas though. The woman hadn't moved an inch from where she stood on the other side of the bars. The only motion she did was to flick a piece of lint from her business jacket. Lucy's smile wavered, her eyes narrowed in the woman's direction.

"You are arranging my release, correct?" Lucy asked, heat in the tone of her voice, "It seems like the right move considering the reason I'm even in this mess is because of a job  _you_  hired me to do."

"I have no idea what job you're talking about," Regina instantly countered, "I am the mayor of Storybrooke. I have everything I could want. I would never associate myself with a common criminal, much less hire one."

There was a curve to Regina's lips, a thinly veiled viciousness beneath the surface that let Lucy know everything she needed to know. Regina was not going to get her out. She was going to wash her hands of Lucy completely and leave her to handle the mess alone.

"You had me look into Jones, had me steal from him-"

"You must be confused," Regina replied, false sympathy laced in her voice, "Being in jail could be very disorienting time for people."

"You  _paid_  me to do this job."

"In  _cash_ ," the mayor shot back, "Cash that could easily turn from a form of payment to another item stolen by a petty thief."

A faint laugh escaped Regina's lips as she took a step closer to the bars and sized Lucy up. Something shifted in the air between the two women and Lucy knew the change would not be in her favor. There was nothing in Lucy's actions that could point towards Regina. Nothing but her word, which didn't amount to anything considering which side of the bars she was standing on at the moment.

"I paid you to find out what you could," Regina told her, "Like I said earlier, you weren't supposed to get caught. If you were under the impression that I'd help you get out of the mess… Well, you were mistaken."

With that, Regina turned on her heels and made her way out of the room. She had other things to deal with, more important things. Lucy was easily disposable, a pawn that was willingly sacrificed for the good of the game. Regina tucked away what little information she got from the thief, the knowledge that Killian was seemingly normal. She's have to figure out that mystery another time. Regina had an issue with a missing patient that was higher on her list of things to deal with. It didn't matter much to her in the end if he stayed comatose or not. Her backup plan had already begun to form in her mind.

The sun had set long before Killian and Henry caught up with the group and followed them into the woods. It was no surprise that Emma hadn't been all that happy to see them. Mostly Henry. After his mother made it known how unhappy she was over the idea of Emma being around Henry, Emma knew she had to be careful when it came to interacting with the kid. A search for a missing patient didn't seem like being careful, but there wasn't much Emma could do in that moment.

Not when that moment now centered around a half-drowned John Doe.

Killian stood close to Emma as she ushered Henry back, afraid the kid would witness something he couldn't forget. Mary Margaret still hovered over John Doe, who was revived for a short moment before passing out again. In the distance, she could hear Graham's voice direct the medics through the woods. She didn't know how she'd act if Henry got dragged into this mess and ended up seeing the man he believed was Prince Charming pass away. Emma had wanted to cushion the blow of reality for Henry, but now it seemed like she might have exposed him to something too tragic for a kid his age. Guilt began to bubble inside of her. It settled deep in the pit of her stomach and threatened to spread throughout her whole being.

The paramedics came, John Doe was whisked away, and the others had no choice but to follow. The ride to the hospital had been nerve-wracking, but the rush through the halls of the hospital had been even worse. It was chaos, pure and simple. It was an awful mess of bodies as everyone hurried from corridor to corridor until the doors permitted them from moving forward.

"Is… i-i-is he going to be okay?" Henry asked, a hint of panic in his voice.

"We don't know yet," Emma replied, unable to lie about the scene that played out before their eyes, "But they're going to do all they can."

They all stood by the door, each of them with their eyes glued on the doctors and John Doe. Emma felt Killian's warm hand rest on the small of her back and felt him step closer to her, a silent sign of support in the moment. This was not the situation Emma hoped for when this day began. It was insane how quickly things spun out of control in this town.

"David?" a voice rang out, "David?!"

The group sprang back from the glass doors as a woman came running past them and into the room. Confusion filled the air as they watched the new face speak urgently with the local doctor. Emma looked to Mary Margaret, both unsure what the hell was going on.

"Who's that?"

"His wife," Regina's voice announced as the mayor stepped around the corner and into view.

The mayor swept her eyes over the others, one by one, until they rested on Mary Margaret.

"John Doe's name is David Nolan," Regina continued, "And that's his wife Kathryn."

The events of the hospital was still fresh in their minds as Emma and Killian pulled up to the sidewalk outside of Mary Margaret's apartment. Killian followed after Emma as she made her way into the building in silence, unsure what to say or think about what had happened earlier. Emma's plan to show Henry the truth had more than backfired. Not only had Henry's belief grow stronger, but Mary Margaret had been pulled in and let down. Today's crisis had only contributed to the ever-growing list of mishaps they've experienced since they came to town. They were without room and board in a town neither of them were familiar with and had lives that waited for them back in Boston.

Emma began to climb the stairwell towards Mary Margaret's apartment, but stopped when she felt Killian's hand rest against her hip and the sound of her name being spoken from behind her. She turned to face him, one hand still on the banister. The steps she took had given her a couple of inches more on Killian, who raised his chin slightly to meet her gaze.

"It's late, love," he began to explain, "Perhaps we should return in the morning. I can't imagine Mary Margaret wanting company after what happened."

"She's alone, Killian," Emma reminded him, "No one deserves to be alone after what happened tonight."

Emma brought up her hands up to rub at Killian's shoulders for a moment. She smiled at the sound of his sigh as her fingers traveled up to rake through his hair. When her hands came to rest against the back of his head, Emma leaned in to meet Killian's lips as he rose up to kiss her. Killian slid his hand around Emma and let it rest against the small of her back. They needed that intimacy, the familiarity, after the day they had. It was a reminder that they weren't alone. Not anymore. Killian kept close when Emma broke the kiss, brushed the tip of her nose with his own.

"We need to rest," Killian smiled against her lips, "Among other things…"

His fingers inched up the hem of Emma's shirt and earned a playful tug of his hair for his troubles.

"Stay focused," Emma instructed.

She placed some room between them and felt herself settle into a more serious mindset. There were things they needed to discuss, decisions they needed to make. Killian saw the shift in her, changed his expression to match hers. He was able to read her expressions constantly, always aware when it came to her.

"I know I said we'd only be here a week," she confessed, "But the thing is… Mary Margaret offered us her guest bedroom. It's weird, I know. We don't really know her, but it'd beat sleeping in our cars for the next few days."

Killian watched her for a beat and that moment seemed to be all he needed.

"And the real reason?"

Emma let her hands drop to her sides with a sigh. Damn him. She had gotten used to the years where she closed herself off. Sometimes she would forget that she had someone who was able to see past that. It could be the most infuriating thing at times, but Emma knew this wasn't one of those moments.

"She's not just alone," Emma replied, "She's… lonely. I can tell, okay?"

"Your thing with the lies," Killian assumed.

"No, she didn't lie to me," she told him, not sure how to put it to words, "I just know she is."

"And you want to change that," Killian surmised.

"Maybe..."

It was embarrassing and a little crazy to Emma. She had told herself over and over that moving in with Mary Margaret wouldn't work. She had it in her head that she wasn't the type, that she just met the woman, that it was enough of a change in her life already being with Killian. The look on Mary Margaret's at the hospital was a hard one to erase from her mind. The sadness was more than clear. Another thing to add for the lonely school teacher who couldn't catch a break when it came to potential love. The woman had told her that she didn't truly believe in Henry's curse business, but there had been a part of her that had connected and hoped. In the end, that hope crumbled away. Emma knew more than anyone how it felt to have things slip out of grasp.

"We have belongings in Boston," Killian finally said, as he reached out to take her hand into his, "An apartment and affairs we need to have in order if we decide to stay here-"

"We're not  _staying_ ," Emma quickly corrected him, "Not anything long-term, okay? Just finishing out the rest of the week."

"Just for the rest of the week," Killian nodded, "You're aware that you've said the same thing about me, right?"

Emma rolled her eyes before she turned on her heel to continue up the stairs. When they reached the apartment door, Emma felt Killian brush the pad of his thumb along her knuckles before he slowly released her hand to knock on the door. There was a moment of silence, then the sound of the lock flipping open. Mary Margaret appeared behind the door moments after, a soft look of surprise on her face.

"Emma, Killian…"

"Sorry to bother you so late," Emma said, a hint of nervousness in her voice, "But is that spare room still available?"

Killian watched as Mary Margaret began to smile. With a slight nod of her head, the teacher took a step to the side and opened the door wider for them to enter. Killian placed his hand against the small of Emma's back as they stepped into Mary Margaret's apartment. Whatever else that gets thrown their way would be handled. They'd adjust to how Henry and his curse talk factored into everything, adjust to the town, to their new arrangement with Mary Margaret. However long Emma decided to stay, Killian knew he would be by her side.

It was only for the rest of the week anyway.

What more could happen?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I know it's been a while since I last updated. Some family issues came up the past few months so I had been dealing with that. I'm settled into a new situation and routine now because of it, but hopefully now that means I can start updating sooner. I hate leaving this story hanging for months at a time. I know the story has been pretty tame in terms of smut. I'm pretty incapable of writing something without at least a little bit of smut in it though so fully expect this fic rating to chance to MATURE within the next few chapters. Thanks for all the patience and for sticking around with this story! I love hearing all the feedback and I can't wait for you guys to read the next chapter.


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